Give It a Chance
by ListeningToYou
Summary: This is about Darkest Powers meeting up with Women/Otherworld. Chloe needs help. When she goes to Jaime's show for help, she thought it would be a waste of time. She never expected Jaime to be a real necromancer. Jaime can offer more than just help for Chloe. She has important connections that could change her life. Sorry if I anger anyone by not being in the crossover section.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my crossover of Darkest Powers and the Otherworld books. Someone told me to put it in the Darkest Powers category to get more exposure. So I did. This is set after Kelley Armstrong's The Belonging. It's possible I'm messing up what Jeremy, Jaime, Elena, Clay, and the twins are doing, but I just wanted to incorporate all the characters I love into one story. I'll try my best to make the timing, as well as the mindsets of the characters, accurate. This first chapter is mainly about The Darkest Powers Characters, but I will put more Otherworld characters in as the story progresses.**

**Disowner: Kelley Armstrong owns both of these worlds (Darkest Powers and Otherworld) and all details I use to create this fanfic.**

Jaime Vegas, was getting tired. Tired physically, emotionally, and mentally.

"Jeremy, it's been…" a quick glance at my calendar on the dashboard of the rental car I was driving told me it was April 23. "In two days it will have been exactly a _month_ since I've seen you and the twins." I tried to not to whine into the phone and took a deep breath. My already exhausted eyes, fluttered closed for the second time in ten minutes. It had been almost 37 hours since I had last slept it was catching up with me.

I'd been driving for only an hour; my last show finished on my Louisville tour and I'd left, heading to a hotel in Richmond, which was a town away. Jeremy had called to ask me a few questions on Necromancy for some Council business. He had stayed on the line only because I had told him I needed a distraction to make it the last fifteen minutes to the next town, and my hotel room.

I jerked my head forward and managed not to swerve too wildly into the lane next to me. It was good there wasn't much traffic tonight. I rolled the window down, hoping the cold air would wake me up.

"Seeing Elena and Clay for a day was great, but that was two weeks ago. I want to come home." I'm not sure when I'd started thinking of Stonehaven as home. The property where Jeremy and his family had lived since his grandfather had bought and named the place was huge; it had become my base for between tours since Jeremy and I had started seeing each other.

I heard Jeremy's sigh and wished I could take back my last words. I probably sounded like a whiny brat. I knew that Jeremy got complaints all the time and as a general rule, tried to complain as little as possible myself.

I sat straighter as I began to downplay how I was feeling. "Sorry, I didn't mean to complain. I know I'll see you in a few days and like I said, I am so tired, the only thing keeping me awake is talking." Deep breath to clear my head. "Anyway, how are the twins?"

"Jaime," Jeremy said my name with a sigh and I knew I hadn't downplayed my melancholy over not seeing him enough to fool him. I doubt I would have been able to lie to him even I was wide awake and firing on all cylinders. Jeremy always knew what I wasn't saying and how I was feeling.

I could picture him clearly, now, sitting in his chair in his office at Stonehaven, one hand over his eyes, the other holding the phone to his ear. He was probably leaning forward as he talked to me on the phone with his elbows resting on his knees. "I miss you, too."

In those four words I heard that he'd been just as lonely as me in the past month. Jeremy loved the Pack, and keeping it safe had been his life since he was in his thirties. But he was training someone else to take over as Alpha, to take on all the responsibility he'd had to shoulder for half of his life. Being Alpha meant always knowing what to do and always being in control. I could sympathize; I spent almost every day onstage, acting and playing a part. Jeremy had that torture to a larger degree. He was never offstage and he had people's lives at stake if he messed up, whereas I just went on with the show if I goofed. But I'm not saying that Jeremy isn't suited to being Alpha.

Jeremy was the best, most progressive, Alpha in Pack history. According to Clay. Apparently, since Jeremy became Alpha, foreign matters with other Packs had improved as well as the policy toward other werewolves in America. Mutts, werewolves not in the Pack, were no longer hunted for sport. Also, werewolves had rejoined the supernatural community by joining the council.

All this, in one Alpha's lifetime, was huge. And Jeremy was…not getting tired, but ready to pass on the duty.

I wished all the more to be with him when I heard how tired he sounded. I was relieved that Elena would be taking over as Alpha in a few years. She couldn't sooner because she and Clay had just had two kids, twins, and they weren't old enough yet. Elena needed to concentrate on her family right now, not a pack of werewolves.

I clutched the phone tighter to my ear and blinked hard. "One more show." My voice was a plea and a promise.

Jeremy sighed and I heard him move. Sitting up, I thought. "One more show," he agreed.

(The next day)

"Take a left here," Derek instructed, semi-calmly. His left hand gripped the armrest and his right hand gripped the door handle. His body language gave away his anxiety. I ignored his anxiety and just tried to do what he told me to do. He wasn't making it easy, though.

The turn was ten feet away: not a lot of time to make a turn, but I'd try. I started to turn left, just the way Derek had instructed me to. Unfortunately, a car was coming from the other direction and I didn't see it until it was too late. Both cars swerved as we avoided hitting each other and I squeaked in alarm, yanking the steering wheel wildly. The car honked as it sped by and Derek reached over to yank the steering wheel straight again.

As soon as I could, I pulled over to the side of the road and tried to get my breathing back under control as well as my heart rate. I gulped air and looked out the window at the Burger King sign advertising for whoppers.

I didn't want to, knowing he'd be upset, but looked over at Derek anyway. He was gripping the door handle too tightly and it was starting to creak like it would break. I quickly looked forward again.

Derek had promised me driving lessons almost a month ago and so far I've realized that either I'm a very bad student or Derek is a crap teacher. Or maybe our driving lessons would be more productive with more driving, rather than parking.

I heard Derek take a breath and clear his throat but his voice was still a little growly when he spoke. "Turning into oncoming traffic usually isn't a good idea, Chloe."

I felt my eyes narrow; the dam of frustration from the afternoon of driving with Derek barking orders at me broke.

"Maybe you should give more of a warning before I'm supposed to turn!" I yelled, turning to face him. I was breathing rapidly again, this time with anger, not fear.

Derek's jaw clenched and he growled. Then he blinked and stopped the noise, clearing his throat again before looking away from me, first out the window then down at his lap.

"In fact," I began, my voice deceptively calmer, "why don't you stop yelling at me every time I switch lanes, or turn, or stop, or change the radio station. How about you actually teach me to drive, instead of dictate me!" By the end, I was yelling and I could feel my face heating up with anger.

Derek's head dropped a little lower, making him look almost contrite. But I knew better. I had seen him do this just the other day with my aunt, Lauren. She had yelled at him for a good five minutes for not bringing me home early enough from our date. The whole time she yelled, he had been silent and avoided eye contact, a sign of submissiveness. He'd looked down at his shoes and had been appropriately repentant, but ten seconds after she left the room, he'd gone and done 350 reps on his new weightlifting set, all the while muttering how prejudiced, spiteful, and just wrong Lauren was. Then he went outside and had punched a tree. It broke.

He was probably thinking of, and rejecting, a million replies, all beginning with "If you…" and ending with something I did wrong. However, he was smart enough not to say anything, knowing I'd give it right back. And the last thing he wanted was to get into a fight with me. I usually won.

And this driving time was all the time we got during weekdays to be together, alone. Because it hadn't worked out in the last town, we weren't pretending to be step siblings anymore and were allowed to date now. However, my aunt and Kit agreed that we could only go on dates on weekends and during the week we had to make an effort to spend time with other people. Usually Tori and Simon, who still weren't getting along, despite finding out they were half siblings, for real. Actually, it might be _because_ they knew they were half siblings that they were still fighting. Anyway, neither Derek nor I wanted to argue while we had this rare time together to practice my 'driving.'

As I thought that last bit, I took a deep breath before speaking. "No. I'm sorry. I should have seen the traffic and waited." I tapped my fingers on the wheel, avoiding his look. "You're right. Driving into oncoming traffic usually isn't a good idea." I saw his mouth twitch out of the corner of my eye. My tone changed from "let's forget this and move on" to "but you're not off the hook yet." "_But…_You still should have given me more warning." I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a reproving look.

Derek looked up from his lap, smiling now. He looked like he was trying not to be amused, but didn't really care if he showed it. He looked so different with that smile that I had to concentrate on what was going on so I didn't end up just staring at him. This has happened before, on more than one occasion. I was beginning to wonder if Derek knew that he flustered me with his smile and was now using it as a weapon whenever he was about to get in trouble. I narrowed my eyes at that smile and it faltered before coming back, full force.

He chuckled. "Don't look at me like that. You're right." He lifted an eyebrow in wry amusement. "I just hadn't planned on taking that turn until I saw it. It was just…" he trailed off, looking for the right word.

"Spur of the moment?" I asked, surprised. That wasn't like Derek. He usually has everything planned out. I get the feeling that he plans every driving lesson we have, even the ones when we don't really do much driving.

His head tilted, making him look dog-like. My lips twitched, picturing a dog and Derek sitting side by side, both of them with tilted heads.

"Yes. Spur of the moment." A faraway look crossed over his face and he said, "I don't usually do things like that."

I had to agree, and he laughed focusing on me again. He reached over and grabbed my hand. The mood had lifted. I was glad, but then wondered if Derek's smile had done it again and I was about to get irritated, before realizing I didn't want to.

"So, now what?" Derek asked. "Want to try again?" His eyebrows were drawn together and his mouth turned down, clearly showing this idea wasn't appealing to him. I laughed.

"No. Let's be done with driving today." I leaned over the seat and pecked his chin. "Let's do something else."

He smiled and hopped out of the car. I followed suit and we switched seats, so now Derek could drive. I watched his face as he pulled out into the traffic and did a U-turn. I couldn't help thinking that I'd probably never be able to make a regular turn, much less a U-turn.

"Well," Derek said, cutting off my wistful thoughts about U-turns. "I'd say that we made considerable progress today."

I looked over to see if he was being serious. His eyes were narrowed in concentration as he paid strict attention to the road. But then his nose twitched, just slightly. He was trying not to laugh.

"Ha. If you call hitting the garbage can as I backed down the drive way progress, then yes. Considerable progress, indeed." I slumped back into my seat and looked sulkily out the window ahead. I wasn't actually upset, and my tone was mocking.

Derek laughed. "I would. You didn't hit the mailbox or the cat. Therefore, progress."

We both laughed. I had hit the mailbox my first day, and the cat that is always returning to the farmhouse we were staying at now, had gotten in the way last week. I'd only run over his tail and he was perfectly fine afterward. I had gotten out and cuddled him for twenty minutes until he'd stopped yowling long enough for Kit to make sure his tail was okay. It was. I still felt guilty and the cat was staying far away from me.

"I feel bad for Kenny," I said a minute later. Kenny is what Simon named the cat. He was really excited when he realized the cat wasn't afraid of Derek. Most animals are, and dogs are even worse, but this cat was different. "I hope he'll forgive me soon."

Derek lifted an eyebrow. "You ran over his tail. Don't expect him to ever forgive you. I heard cat's hold grudges."

"Oh, you're just jealous." I said.

"Really?" Derek didn't sound convinced. "I'm jealous of the cat?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

I smiled. "You'd rather I spent more time with a certain dog."

Derek started to smile at that, but pretended anger. "Are you calling me a dog?"

I smiled wider and looked at him. "Wouldn't dream of it," I said innocently.

He laughed. I loved the sound of that laugh. I heard it so rarely, except during private moments like this, when it was just the two of us relaxed.

He drove us to Burger King and ordered five whoppers and a kid's meal burger for me. Derek paid the cashier at the window without looking straight at him or talking to him. I called a "thank you!" to him as we pulled away. Derek looked over impatiently at me and I gave him the same look. I was trying to get him to be more civil and polite around strangers. We'd made very little progress, so far.

As we ate at the nearby park, still sitting in the van, I said, "You know, I really should learn how to drive. These lessons have been going on for a few weeks, but haven't really learned much. And I'm taking the test in less than two months." I took a bite and chewed while Derek mulled over what I'd said.

"Well, then next time we'll bring Simon along. He'll teach you drive, then we can drop him off at the mall for the rest of the lesson." He took and big bite of burger and that was that. I nodded agreement and he took off eating, sure I wasn't going to ask anymore. Nothing more was said until the burgers were gone. Then we headed home so Aunt Lauren wouldn't give Derek yet another lecture.

When we got home, Aunt Lauren wanted us to finish our homework before we all went out to eat. We'd just eaten, though, so we told her and she said we didn't have to come along, but honestly, we shouldn't have eaten when we had both known that everyone was going out to eat tonight. After we got out of going, Tori of course had to object.

"Well, what's the point of us 'all eating together' if not _all_ of us are going to be there?" she asked in a snotty tone.

Aunt Lauren sighed. "I guess there isn't much point. I'll call Kit and tell him to cancel the reservations. We can go a different day." She turned for the kitchen, looking disappointed enough to make me feel guilty. I went after her.

"Aunt Lauren," I said. She turned around and leaned against the counter next to the phone. "Sorry about tonight. We forgot that we had all planned to eat together."

She sighed. "No, it's fine Chloe. I just…Well, we haven't all been together for a meal in weeks. All of you kids are so independent that I feel like I go days without talking to any of you." It's true, we were all pretty self sufficient. We didn't ask for much, just got it ourselves. "I think it's important to know what's happening in all of your lives, especially since you've all joined programs at the local Rec Center. I just wanted to touch base with everyone, get everyone caught up."

I understood now why she'd been pushing for 'family' dinners for the past two weeks. We all ate separately and at different times. I realized I hadn't had a long conversation with Tori in a few days.

I nodded. "Again, sorry. We'll get it set up again and I promise, Derek and I won't spoil it by eating beforehand." She smiled and I left to do some homework.

I walked into the big room that connected with the kitchen and dining room, on opposite sides, and had two big couches and a tv. I dropped my math book in front of where Simon was sprawled on the floor in front of the couch Derek was laying on. "Help."

Simon laughed and pushed his sketchbook away. I couldn't see it very well, but the sketch looked like dog next to a tree. Simon picked up my math book and said, "Well, I can try but I am crap at math." Derek grunted and I assumed it was in agreement.

I dropped next to him and grabbed back my book. "Not with math."

Derek looked up from his book and Simon looked confused. "With what?" Derek asked before Simon could.

I held up a brochure. "I found this in the trash." It was a brochure for a college two states over. Tori had been antagonizing Kit to let her go to college next year. She'd been relentless for the last month. He'd said that it would fine if she went to college. But one in-state was preferable.

Tori had been bombarding Kit with arguments that she was perfectly capable of going off on her own and living in a different state. So far, both Lauren and Kit hadn't been convinced, what with the microwave and several hallway pictures spontaneously blowing up. Coincidentally, all of the accidents had happened during Tori's temper tantrums.

She hadn't brought it up in a few days and I didn't want her to bring it up anytime soon.

"It's not that I'm against her going to college. Or any of _us_ going to college. It's that I'm sick of her arguing with Kit all the time." Both boys were frowning. Derek looked uncomfortable. "I'm not saying we should try to get her to give up. I want help getting her to let up for awhile. How do we do that without her getting so mad she blows up the house?"

Simon rubbed his hand over his mouth and said, "We could always duct tape her mouth shut for a few days." He smile devilishly at me. I smacked his arm.

"Actually, I don't think you'll have a problem." Derek said it very slowly. I looked at him and he was staring at the brochure.

"Why do you say that?" I asked. He looked tense, nervous again.

"She hasn't said anything for a few days now. I think she's realized that she needs to prove she can keep her temper under control and show she's responsible rather than just argue that she is."

He said it all very matter-of-factly, like it should be obvious.

"Okay." Simon laid back and rested his head on his hands. "Seems right. She has been milder in the last few days. And the brochure was in the trash." He looked over at me. "Maybe she gave up and threw out the brochure." He puts his hands together like he was praying. "Maybe she's realized there's no hope of her ever leaving." With a dramatic flourish, he brought his hand up in a swoon.

Derek wasn't impressed by Simon's 'Hopeless Girl' act.

I looked down at the pamphlet. "I hadn't thought about that. Seems right because it was in the trash." I took a closer look. I hadn't realized it before, but this college wasn't advertising for technologically advanced programs. It was a school of science. I glanced up at Derek who was staring stonily at the wall.

"Or maybe, it wasn't Tori's at all." Simon had said exactly what I was thinking and I jumped, startled.

He was looking at Derek, too, who had rolled his eyes to look over at us, but hadn't moved a muscle. His jaw clenched and he gripped his book tighter.

Simon sat up. "Derek, dad always said you'd be able to go. I don't imagine that's changed. Tori's just…" He stopped talking.

"Unstable?" Derek growled. "Well, how would you describe a werewolf who can only control his changes less than half the time? I'd say that's pretty unstable, too."

The bitterness in his voice caught me off guard.

"You don't actually believe that, do you?" I blurted, incredulous. Derek looked over at me, meeting my gaze. "That you're unstable? I don't think Tori is either."

As I said that, Tori walked in the room looking mad as Hell. "_What_ did you say?"

I sighed. "I said I don't think the reason Kit and Aunt Lauren don't want you going to college is because you're unstable."

She narrowed her eyes. "Damn straight. I am _not_ unstable. I am perfectly stable. And _thank you very much_ for talking about me behind my back, Chloe. God, you just keep doing shit like this. You'll never make any friends if all you do stab them in the back."

Derek was up and off the couch in an instant. But Tori was already backing up, her arms raised and head shaking. "No, no, no. Sit down, Derek." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "I guess that last little rant doesn't do anything to prove I'm stable, does it?" She sat down on the couch, looking miserable. "God, you're right. I'm a mess."

She looked at me. I didn't meet her gaze and looked at the wall determinedly. I was sick of how Tori treated me. Then again, she treated everyone that way so it wasn't like I was getting special treatment because she _really_ hated me.

"Chloe you know that wasn't true. I didn't mean it." She sighed and I knew she was telling the truth.

Even if she wasn't entirely 'stable,' she had come a long way. Before, she never would have admitted she was wrong _or_ apologized. It was enough to make Derek sit back down, though he was far from happy. He hated it if anyone treated me badly and Tori did that a lot. I always forgave her and that irritated him almost as much as her being mean to me. I think Derek held this scale of checks and balances he kept in his head. Tori tipped the scale in the wrong direction and I don't think she was anywhere close to tipping back to the right side.

Simon stood up. He made some excuse to go to the kitchen. Tori and Simon still had trouble talking to each other if they weren't fighting. I had thought it might have been getting better, but I think they were just getting better at avoiding each other.

I didn't say anything to Tori and turned back to Derek. "Derek." When he'd stopped glowering at Tori, he finally looked at me. I got up and grabbed his chin so he couldn't turn away. Of course, he could have done anything he wanted, but this gave the illusion that he had to listen to me.

"You are responsible. You are strong," and I didn't mean physically. "You are brave and smart and a million other things. You can do anything you choose. Why the _Hell_ would you think you couldn't go to college?" I loosened my grip on his chin and placed my hand on his cheek. His eyebrows were pulled together in a brooding way. "Just talk to Kit." I gave his nose a nuzzle then bit it lightly. He jumped, then looked pleased with my little bite. He nodded then stood up from the couch. I stayed kneeling on the floor as he walked away.

"I'm gonna go for a run." He nodded when I said okay and he left. He had some thinking to do and he could think the most clearly after a run.

Tori was wallowing in her chair, thinking and sulking.

She looked up when I sat down and started to do some math homework. I had finished four problems when she spoke.

"Have you found anything useful yet?" I knew what she was talking about and immediately felt my mood plunge.

I'd been doing research for the past few weeks, trying to find out as much as I could on necromancy. I hadn't been able to find any reliable sources yet and most of my information was either fiction or didn't work. And the worst of it was that even if the stuff I was trying wasn't fiction, it might just not work because I was doing it wrong or it could be my 'modifications.' There was no way to tell for sure if I was just wrong, the information was wrong, or if my genetic material was wrong. Either way, everything Derek and I did wasn't helping. I had no sure fire way to get rid of ghosts.

Ghosts like Diane Enright, Tori's mom, who had threatened me the last time I'd seen her. I'd promised to find a way to keep her away for good, but so far I was nowhere near a solution.

I put my pencil down. Tori was more composed now and looked like she was desperate for me to continue the conversation.

"Nope. Nothing yet."

Tori nodded, looking genuinely sorry I hadn't. "What about you? Do you think any of that yoga or other calming activities have been working?" I kept the sarcasm out of my voice as much as possible.

She snorted. "Are you kidding? Were you here five minutes ago? I just chewed your head off and insulted you over something stupid. No. It's not working."

"Maybe you don't really think it will work, and that's why it's not working."

She glared. "You sound like Lauren."

I shrugged and went back to my math. A few problems later she asked, "I could help you look for some things. Maybe try out a few rituals with you. See if anything works."

I looked up, surprised. Derek always offered to help, but no one else did. They all were too uncomfortable with the dead bodies that eventually came crawling to me. Every single time we tried something new, zombies arrived.

Tori didn't look disgusted by thought of helping me, though. "Sure. I'd really appreciate some help. Actually, I had thought about asking you for help, but never thought you'd actually do it."

She made a face. Oh well, it was the truth and I was getting better at not apologizing for everything I said that wasn't perfectly nice and complimentary.

She nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. But I want to help now." I did a few more problems, then "Why did you want to ask me? I mean, before? Was there a specific reason, or did you just want someone besides Science Boy for a change?"

I was beginning to think I was never going to finish my homework, but set down my pencil anyway. I smiled. "Well there was that. Derek gets a little too logical sometimes. Most of the time, it's comforting, but it gets frustrating, too. But actually I thought it might be more helpful because you're a witch. Since witches do rituals, I thought maybe you could provide some kind of insight into what I'm doing. Simon and Kit gave some advice, but none of it really helped."

Tori chewed her lip and thought for a minute. "Well, I actually barely know anything about rituals. I only learned a few tips from Gwen and nothing before that. I need help, too." She said that last wistfully.

"Well, we can collaborate. We both do research and help each other."

I held out my hand. "Deal?"

Tori took my hand and gave it a sharp shake. "Deal."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of Kelley Armstrong's stories or books or characters. **

My butt was getting sore from sitting on the ground for so long. The day was nice and the shade from the tree I was leaning against was a relief from the heat of the sun. Tori and Simon were sweating bullets as they sparred. Even Kit wasn't his usual immaculate self; sweat stains were spreading on his chest and under his arms.

I hadn't finished my math last night, thanks to Tori, but I was doing the last problems while I waited for Simon and Tori to be done with their lesson. Normally, I would be sparring with them, but Aunt Lauren had insisted I finish my math first. I hadn't complained, knowing I should have finished it last night, but I had been distracted. Derek and I had left just after Tori and I had made our deal. He had wanted to go out and try to Change.

He was getting better, I think. The Change still looked horribly painful, but we were thinking that was how it was going to be from now on. Last night, he'd had more trouble than usual and couldn't change for nearly 45 minutes. I had been talking, chattering the entire time and was running out of subjects to babble about when it finally began. And then it seemed to go on forever. He couldn't Change fast enough and by the time he was finally a wolf, he collapsed from exhaustion. That happened sometimes and it worried me. I had tried to convince him that when he couldn't Change right away, he shouldn't try so hard. It looked like it nearly killed him.

He'd collapsed and fallen asleep, not even able to open his eyes before his breathing deepened. I'd waited for ten minutes before going back to the house, and then watched tv for an hour. I should have done my homework then, but I was too preoccupied. I waited through two episodes of that Seventies Show before I heard him howl. I was up and out the door in seconds, racing through the forest in our backyard.

We hadn't played for long, only doing a few rounds of hide and seek before Derek nudged me to go inside. He hadn't been wolf for very long and it was too soon for him to try Changing back, so I went inside alone and Derek slept outside, still in wolf form. Aunt Lauren refused to let him in the house while he was a wolf. That was one of the things that had really pissed me off, but there was no arguing with her. She just couldn't understand that Derek was the same in any form, and if he hadn't attacked and killed us all yet, he probably wasn't going to at all.

I had woken up this morning and gone downstairs to see him already showered and eating a huge pile of pancakes. I sat by him and he shoveled two pancakes off the top of his pile and onto my plate. I thanked him with a peck on the cheek, at which Tori made a gagging sound and Derek flipped her off. Everything was normal.

Derek hadn't seemed overly tired, despite his bad Change last night and even went down to work-out in the basement and was still there as I watched Simon kick Tori's legs out from under her. Kit didn't look like he'd be getting around to having me spar anytime soon so I went back inside to talk to Derek. His attitude about going to college had bothered me yesterday and the Change last night probably didn't help his confidence any. I also wanted to see if he'd talk to me about any of the other things he'd been worried about. I knew that meeting his family had been confusing. The Cains had kidnapped him and then he'd escaped with a threat from his cousin to never comeback or to contact them. Derek hadn't wanted stay with them or ever go back, but the fact that the option was gone was unsettling.

The Cains were the only werewolves he might have been able to ask for information from. Now, there wasn't anyone who could answer his questions. Sure, he could go out and track down a werewolf, look for some kind of sign in the papers, but any werewolf who showed up in the papers obviously wasn't going to be friendly or very bright. I couldn't even do that, look in the papers, for a necromancer. Aunt Lauren hardly knew anything and was no help. Kit had had that contact for Derek, but he was considered unreliable now. Tori didn't have anyone to help her train. The only one with a teacher was Simon because Kit was a sorcerer.

I wanted to talk to Derek and see what his thoughts on this were.

The sound of metal clinking against metal rang up the stairwell as I descended into the basement. "Derek?" I called.

A grunt and then a louder clink of metal answered me. I turned at the bottom of the stairs to see Derek sitting up from a bench, sweat covering him. "Yeah?" he said as I walked closer.

I handed him a towel that had been sitting next to his water bottle at the foot of the stairs. "Hey." I surveyed the room. It looked like he was on the last part of his routine. A punching bag lay on the floor, the seams split slightly. All the other assorted weights and exercise stuff was neatly tucked away. All that was out were the weights for the bench press and Derek had just started to do his reps.

I looked quizzically at him, putting a hand on my waist. "Aren't you the least bit tired?" After last night, I thought he'd be sleeping all day. I should have known better than to expect any weakness from a werewolf.

He shook his head, then stopped and shrugged. "I slept through the night, after you went inside. I wasn't tired until about ten minutes ago. I upped the weights on the bench press. I'm starting to get a little winded." He smiled and I could see he didn't seem to be breathing at all hard. I snorted and rolled my eyes as his grin widened.

He lay back down and began his reps again and I sat down a few feet from the bench on the spare chair he'd brought down after the third time I'd sat on the floor while he worked out. I usually came down and did some kind of homework or writing while he exercised. I did my own exercising, but there was no way I could go as long as Derek did. Sometimes, I just watched him, like I was now.

I waited a while before speaking. "I wanted to ask you something." I received a grunt in response.

"Is that brochure of the college you really want to go to?" I tried to sound casual, but he stopped mid-lift. It looked really uncomfortable, but he just held the bar there, half way between his chest and the full extension of his arms. His arms started to shake before he answered.

"Yes."

I nodded and he continued his reps, his body slightly tenser than before.

"Are you going to talk to Kit?"

This time he didn't stop midway, but put the bar back in the holder and sat up. He wiped his forehead with the towel I tossed again to him. He stared at me for awhile and I stared back, trying to figure out what was going on in his head.

"Not yet."

I blinked. "When?" I crossed my arms over my chest, a clear indication that his answer hadn't pleased me, but I wasn't going to outright fight with him about it.

He sighed and lay back down. "I don't know."

I decided that if he wasn't going to look at me while we had this conversation, he didn't want to discuss it and I should take my cue to change the subject. I sighed and switched to one of the other topics I'd come down here to talk with him about.

"Last night, Tori and I made a deal to help each other find information." Derek grunted, signaling me to continue. "I know you're going to tell me that I shouldn't trust Tori because she'll probably just use me to find out more information for her. That she won't really help me find necromancer information and instead we'll both just be looking for stuff about witches. But I think it's worth a shot. If it looks like she's duping me, then I'll just call her out. We made a deal."

Derek nodded and let out a sharp burst of air as the bar came closer to his chest. His shirt was sticking to him, drenched in sweat, and his hair hung in clumps. Wisps were pasted to his forehead and the sides on his face and neck. But his eyes were bright and his breathing even. I couldn't help smiling as I thought about how he was mine. I wasn't normally a possessive person, but I couldn't help it when it came to Derek.

"I wanted to ask you another thing." I waited for the grunt. "I think we need more help than just research. I know we tried the whole mentor thing at the safehouse with Andrew, but that was different. I think we should ask Kit to see if he can find someone to help you, me, and Tori. What do you think?"

I didn't have time to wonder very long. Derek didn't stop moving while he answered. "He's been looking for a reliable source since he found us at the Edison Group Headquarters. He's never been able to find anyone besides Thomas who knows much about werewolves, but he's heard some rumors lately. Dad's been trying to find a werewolf 'mentor,'" he gave the word a mocking twist to it that just barely evaded being insulting and ended up being amused. "A 'mentor' for me for months. So far, no dice. Same goes for a witch and necromancer for you. I think part of it is he's not willing to trust the rumors he's heard, and part is he's wary about trusting _anyone_ besides himself and Lauren around us modified experiments." He said all of this while still lifting the weights. I looked down at my scrawny arms. Derek had me lifting weights four days a week and he claimed I was improving, but so far I didn't think it made much of a difference.

I was disappointed that Kit hadn't found anyone and my shoulders slumped. "What should we do, then? I need to talk to a necromancer, Derek. If Diane comes back…" Which was the other thing I was worried about. "Derek, what if she does something the next time she comes back? Something worse than making me fall into a hole in an air vent. What if she kills one of us?" My voice was soft and the last barely a whisper.

He was up and had his hands on my shoulders in an instant. "Don't think like that Chloe." I leaned toward him and wrapped my arms around him. He grunted, obviously thinking he was too sweaty to be given a hug. I tightened my arms around him until he was hugging me too. I felt like I was baking next to his heat, but I didn't care.

"Chloe, if she comes back—"

I interrupted him. "Not if. When, Derek, when. We both know she's coming back."

He sighed. "Okay. _When_ she comes back, you can just do what you did last time." He didn't sound very enthusiastic. We both knew that she could cause damage before I realized she was back so banishing her was only good if I realized on time. Also, that wasn't a permanent solution.

"We'll talk to Dad. Maybe he has some ideas he hasn't shared yet." I nodded and we stayed there, his sweat was starting to soak into my clothes. I didn't care, but it wouldn't look good when I went back upstairs. I stood up.

"Come up, soon."

Derek was taking a shower when I went to find Kit and Aunt Lauren. I figured Tori and Simon might as well be there, too, so I called a group meeting.

We were all sitting at the table in the dining room when Derek came downstairs. He paused in the doorway and then came to sit next to me.

Kit folded his hands on the table and waited. Aunt Lauren looked between me and Derek before saying warily, "What's this about, Chloe?"

Tori and Simon looked just as intrigued. "I want to find a necromancer. I have a lot of questions and nothing I can find in books or on the internet are helping." I looked at Kit who seemed to be thinking something over in his head. He stared at the table while I spoke to him. "Derek's told me you've been looking for people to help us." Kit nodded but still didn't look up. "I was wondering what you'd found."

Tori and Simon had been looking back and forth between me and Kit like they were watching a tennis match. Now they stared at Kit. Derek was silent next to me.

Kit took a deep breath. "I haven't found anything I trust yet." He gestured at Derek. "While I was trying to find out about werewolves, I heard something about the council. The council was made up of Coven Witches for centuries, so I thought I was mistaken when I heard something about a werewolf being on the council." He looked at Tori, whose eyes were huge with…something like hope. "The Coven is very…conservative, you might say. If they found out about you, there's no guarantee they'd let you live. Not only were you experimented on," Kit looked pained as he said this but didn't make the mistake of thinking Tori couldn't handle it. "But you are also half sorcerer. Witches and Sorcerers hate each other. I have no idea how they'd react to someone like you." He turned to me. "For you Chloe, I contacted one of my old…colleagues. He wasn't happy with me and I think he only let it slip that…"

He trailed off. Kit had an indecisive look in his eyes. What? Was he thinking of not telling me what he found? No way. He can't dangle information like that in front of me and then take it away. I glared at him and he stiffened. Not happy with my attitude. Well, I'll give him attitude.

I was opening my mouth to say something, but Aunt Lauren spoke before I could. "What he found was a silly rumor that some woman who was on tv was a real Necromancer." She sounded annoyed. "That's ridiculous. Everyone knows those people are phonies and con people out of their money by using other's grief as tools." She sounded mightily indignant now.

We were all silent for a few moments.

Derek broke the silence. "Who's the necromancer?" Kit looked confused so Derek elaborated. "The one on tv." Derek didn't look at Aunt Lauren when she scoffed.

"Her name is Jaime Vegas. She does mostly live shows but guest appears on tv pretty often." Kit looked wary of where this was going.

Tori sat up straighter. "I've heard of her! I know who that is! Actually," Tori ran out of the room and came back in carrying her new laptop. "I saw this last night." She looked at me, excitement in her eyes. "I was looking up stuff on necromancers," I glanced at Derek in time to see the surprise leave his face as he controlled his expression. He wasn't the only one surprised by Tori's help. I was pretty shocked myself. "Jaime Vegas actually has a show in just a few days. Not very far from here. It's in Richmond, so that's only a few hours away. Why don't we go see her?"

I was shocked to see Tori so enthusiastic. She just found out that a Coven of Witches probably would want her dead if they found out about her. Maybe that yoga was working.

But then I saw her smile falter before coming back. She was just trying not to think about it.

"No." Aunt Lauren's voice drew my attention. "It's silly. She's a fake, girls." Aunt Lauren looked annoyed, but Kit was nodding.

"I think it's worth taking a look at, Lauren. I was thinking about contacting her at some point, anyway. If she's going to be this close, we might as well check it out."

He stood up and left, making the decision final. Aunt Lauren jumped up and followed, already arguing. She was using a calm and serious tone. I was almost worried she'd get her way. I heard Kit murmur something to her, though, and she stopped arguing. Derek laughed.

I turned to look at him. "What did he say?"

Derek just shook his and got up himself. "I'm gonna…" He looked down at me, meeting my gaze. "Go talk to my Dad. About college."

I smiled as he walked after Kit. Tori left, too, after a moment and it was just Simon and me.

I looked closer at him and saw that he had a black eye. I sucked in a breath through my teeth. "Ouch. Tori got you?" I asked.

He gave a weak smile. "Yeah." After a moment he said. "I guess I forget how lucky I am that I have Dad to ask questions to. You guys must be going crazy." He shook his. "I can't believe I didn't see this coming. Sure, I knew Derek would need someone to help him with all his wolf stuff, but I never really…"

"Thought about Tori and I?" I asked. He made a face. "No, I know what you mean. Derek needs help in a different way, but I think me and Tori need it just as badly. We're all pretty dangerous without help." I'd been thinking about this a lot. "Well, I guess we're going to a show." I smiled at Simon. He asked if I wanted to spar with him and we headed outside.

(Jaime's POV)

Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it. I hung up the phone before dialing Jeremy's number. The voice mail picked up so I left a message. "Hey, I just found out that my show has been moved from Wednesday to Saturday. It'll be another week before I see you." I sighed into the phone. "Miss you." Then I hung up.

I couldn't believe the show had been moved. Apparently, the original venue had water damage from a broken pipe. Now we have to contact everyone who bought a ticket and somehow give the venue change. We'll have to put a sign on the old place that says the show has been moved. I sighed and called my manager. This show was already turning out to be a big problem and I had feeling it was only going to get even more difficult.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of Kelley Armstrong's books. Darkest Powers and Women of the Otherworld are hers.**

I watched as Derek finished his third sandwich. He looked up and saw me watching him eat; I immediately realized that my mouth was hanging open like an idiot. Derek smirked as I snapped my teeth together as my mouth closed. I looked down at the half eaten sandwich on my plate. I can't help marveling sometimes at how much he eats.

We were the only ones still eating lunch, having gone to town earlier in the morning to go to the Recreational Center and getting back too late to eat with everyone else. I realized again just how right Aunt Lauren was, we don't see each other very often. We needed to have a group meeting, just casually, and talk.

"Next time we go to the Rec Center, you're going to stay with me." I look up from my sandwich and see that Derek's expression has changed from amused to serious and brooding. Damn, he's been moody, switching from happy to serious to playful to angry at the drop of a hat. He doesn't look happy anymore, a slight scowl on his face and his eyebrows drawn together.

I sigh. "Derek, it was nothing. You're over reacting. Ted was just—"

Derek interrupts me with a growl that makes the glass of milk in front of him tremble. "_Ted,"_ Derek says the name like an expletive. "He was _not_ just asking you how far you run. He was _not_ just asking if you wanted to go running together. He does _not_ just want to be friends."

Theodore Heller is a beautiful college boy that goes to the community college in town. He works out at the Rec Center three days a week and works there part time. Not only does his dark chocolate skin make his smile beam, his dimples make a girl's knees go weak. Or so Tori told me. Personally, I just try to stay away from him, knowing Derek gets angry any time a boy talks to me.

I narrow my eyes at Derek. "You can't keep doing this Derek. Ted doesn't like me like _that_. He has to be at least four years older than me. The most he sees in me is a fellow runner who might be able to keep pace with him." This is not strictly true. Ted had a more than friendly attitude around me that I had been trying to discourage for awhile now.

I had recently begun running around the track at the Rec Center while Derek worked out with the superior equipment there; what's in the basement just isn't up to snuff. I had never been one to partake in sports during school, but since being captured, I've resolved to get into better fighting condition. Training with Kit helps, but I was still smaller than almost any opponent I was ever likely to go up against. I worked hard, but most likely, running was going to be my best solution.

I'd taken to the activity, much to my surprise. Running helps clear my head and after a good run, I feel less tense, if sweatier and tired.

Ted runs, too. I've noticed that, like Derek, he works out doing kick boxing, weights, and all other kinds of things that I find hard to believe I will ever be able to do. Like doing 200 pull ups. I can do almost twelve now thanks to Derek's weight training.

But when Derek, Tori, Simon, and I go (it's not always all of us; only Derek and I go regularly. Tori and Simon go for their respective computer and art classes the Rec Center has once a week) Ted seems to stop what he's doing (pull ups, weights, or kickboxing) and starts to run. Usually, around the track. With me.

Which pisses Derek off to no end.

Derek doesn't look pleased with my answer. I stand and take my plate to the sink, tossing my half eaten sandwich in the garbage. "Besides, what would I do if I stayed with you. I can do approximately one eighth of what you do." I turn to look at him, one hand on my hip.

He grunts and grabs his fourth sandwich and takes a huge, angry bite. The sight is so ridiculous with Derek getting mustard all over his face and half the contents of the sandwich falling onto the table, I have to laugh.

Derek growls again before cutting it off short. He swallows and wipes the mustard from his face. "I can help. You need to step up your weight training anyway." His expression looks tense and his eyes don't meet mine. I snort.

"Right. Sure. Let's see how that goes." I tap my chin and think out loud. "Derek will kick, punch, and destroy his kick boxing opponent; Chloe will watch. Derek will lift Mr. Universe-amounts of weight; Chloe will do her stupid exercises with ten pound weights. Derek will perform amazing feats on the pull up bar; Chloe will pass out after fifteen pull ups." I look back at Derek who is looking at me with a raised eyebrow. "Does that sound like fun, or what?" I say in a sarcastic impression of a cheerleader.

Derek looks sullen. "I don't want that prick running with you." He sounds like a pouting toddler.

I huff. "Don't pout. It doesn't suit you." I turn back to the counter and start to put away the sandwich ingredients.

I feel rather than see or hear Derek move. He gets up and stands behind me as I gather all the ingredients into my arms. I hear him sigh and pause, waiting to see what he'll do. This could go either way. Mad Derek, or Sorry Derek.

His hands rest on my sides and he tugs me backward so now my back is pressed to his front. I sigh. Sorry Derek it is.

Briefly, I reflect on how different this is from when we first met. Mine and Derek's relationship has taken an almost complete turn. From indifferent to inseparable.

I set what's in my arms back on the counter and turn around to face him, my arms circling his waist. Derek looks down at me, his face still sullen, but his eyes say he's sorry. His mouth is pursed in a way that means he's still not happy. And his eyebrows are drawn together to reveal that he's torn, indecisive. I wait for him to speak.

"Chloe, I can't let him-" he stops and starts again. "He wants what is mine." He looks guilty saying it. I look up at him, deciding on how to handle this.

"Derek, don't you trust me?" My voice dares him to say he doesn't. Wisely, he nods. "And don't you think I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." Again, he should wisely nod. But hesitates and I pounce.

"Derek!" I explode. "What do I have to do? How can I prove that I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself? If I can escape people trying to kill me, I think I can escape unwanted attention from _boy._" I am getting madder every second.

Derek stops me before I can say more by removing one hand from my waist placing it firmly over my mouth. He looks stubborn and even a little mad. "I want to protect you, Chloe." His voice has dropped to a growly bass.

My jaw works as I struggle not to yell. I feel like I have to deal with this every day from him. Oh, that's right. I do. I pull his hand away from my mouth. "Derek, I understand that. But that doesn't mean you _have to._ I am not a h-helpless child." Oh, damn! I do not need this stupid stutter right now! Thanks a lot Derek, for getting me upset enough to stutter. "I am your girlfriend, but you keep treating me like I'm some w-weak, powerless, little g-girl that can't even tie her own shoe." I look down now, upset and I take a step back. My breath hitches in my throat. "Do you really think I'm that weak? That I can't handle a s-stupid boy like Ted?" I will the tears in my eyes to go away and they do, barely. Damn, how did this go from eating a pleasant lunch to a fight and now I want to cry.

I realize now that this is my biggest problem with how Derek treats me. I know he's protective, but he's not trusting me, not believing in me to be able to handle situations on my own.

"No." It's so quiet that I can barely hear the whispered word. "That's not what I think." Before I can process what he's said, Derek has scooped me into his arms and is carrying me outside through the back door, moving at a rapid walk that gets us to the forest in ten seconds.

"Derek, what are you doing?" I ask, flinging my arms around his neck to keep from bumping around as he speeds up until he's running full tilt through the trees. He doesn't answer, but just keeps running, his breathing uneven and his arms crushing me to his chest. He's starting to frighten me.

Finally, after we've made it possibly to the middle of the forest, Derek stops. He doesn't put me down, though, and just stands in the middle of the clearing, breathing harshly.

I pull my face away from his chest where I'd hidden to avoid branches scratching my face. Derek's eyes are wild and panicked and his face is covered in tiny scratches that are already scabbed over. They'll be healed in a few minutes. A trace of blood is on his lower lip.

"Derek." My voice is a hoarse whisper. He doesn't look at me, but he sets me down, making sure I can stand before letting me go. I wait and finally he looks at me. The panic has left him but instead there is steely resolve in his eyes. I resist the urge to back up a step from the intensity from his gaze, but I can't control my small intake of breath. The noise seems to push him into action.

His body tenses, every muscle like steel. And he pounces. His hands wrap around my upper arms in a bruising grip, trapping them to my sides. He hauls me upward and backward while stepping closer and all at once, I'm pinned against a tree. I barely have time to suck in a breath before his head descends and his mouth is on mine.

He tastes of desperation, blood, and his hands move from my arms and down to my waist. I don't understand what's going on, but he's upset. I've upset Derek.

I wrap my legs around his waist to give myself better purchase. My hands tangle in his hair, the strands soft and slightly damp from his recent shower. Immediately, Derek's hands move down to cradle my bottom, shifting me up higher. Butterflies erupt in my stomach and lightning runs through my blood.

Derek's kiss becomes more frenzied. He assaults my mouth with his tongue, possessing my mouth. My heart speeds up and I feel my body hum with the excitement his touch brings me. One of his hands grips my hip now, and the other moves upward in a caress. Relentless, his assault on my mouth begins to soften, as he gains some control, becoming more potent as the heat between us charges. I can't help tugging his hair and pulling his head closer to mine.

As if to defy my struggles to keep him closer, he pulls back. His hand tugs roughly at my hair, holding my head back and giving him better access to my neck. And he begins a slow, torturous journey along my jaw, nipping, sucking, and kissing. My breathing is ragged and embarrassingly loud. I grip his shoulders, my nails digging softly into the hard muscle, trying to gain some semblance of control of my uninhibited body. Derek's mouth reaches my ear and he nips my ear lobe. A small, startled noise escapes me and Derek's chest rumbles in reaction. The combination of his mouth and teeth, gently scraping my skin, and his rumbling chest, causes little tingles to erupt over my body and a wave of something—desire?—to cascade over me.

I suck in deep breaths and try to think. I try, but damn it, it feels so _good._

Derek's hand on my hip has been kneading the flesh there, slowly and insistently, almost to the point that it hurts, but not quite. Now, his fingers slide under my t-shirt, up to the bottom of my rib cage, then further up…I can't control the moan that comes out, hoarse and throaty. Derek pauses, pushing me harder against the tree, grinding into me and growling. The sound is sexy. It also brings some sense back to me.

I open my eyes and see that Derek is staring at me, his eyes desperate and needy. That resolve lingers there, giving his look and intensity that rivals any other look I've seen from him.

We pause, both looking at each other trying to understand what's happening between us.

This time, I lean my head forward slowly, slowly and kiss _him_, my eyes remaining open staring into his. I bite his lower lip and suck, and watch as his eyes widen. Then I really kiss him, with everything I have. I try to say in my kiss that everything is alright. My tongue glides smoothly, soothingly over his. _Everything is alright, Derek. Everything is alright. _My hands lightly trace the muscles in his back.

And I see it. The panic, the desperation leaves his eyes. I stroke the side of his face gently before he closes his eyes and moans. He returns my kiss equally. This time gentler, though it's…more, and I let my own eyelids fall as I fall into the kiss. There is some unknown factor that has been added to the kiss. Slowly, very slowly, his hand descends and wraps around my butt again and his other hand joins it. After a shaky step backward, I am released from being pinned to the tree.

The kiss, very slow and gentle now allows some of the fire to burn out from my body, but makes my heart swell. Oh, Derek. What's upset you so much? What did I say?

When the kiss ends, our foreheads are touching and I nuzzle his nose with mine and give it a nip, like yesterday. The action makes him relax a fraction more. Neither of us says anything and we just revel in each other's arms.

After what could be seconds, minutes, or hours, I let my legs fall from around his waist and he slides me down his body to the ground. I reach up run my fingers through his drying hair; the softness always surprises me. He closes his eyes and makes a sound dangerously close to a purr. I kiss his chest through his t-shirt and rest my cheek against it, my fingers still buried in his hair.

Derek breaks the silence after a moment. His arms tighten around me, like he's reassuring himself that I'm there, in his arms. "I thought that...I thought we were over. I thought that was it."

I tense, hearing the pain and hurt in his voice. I don't say anything, waiting for him to continue. When he doesn't, I lift my hand from where it rest on his chest, by my cheek, to the back of his neck. I play with the hair there, tugging it gently and am rewarded with another purr. I rub my cheek against his chest, loving the way it vibrates with the noise. His hand comes up to cradle my head.

"Thought what was what?" I ask tentatively. I don't want him to change his mind and not tell me what he's talking about, but I don't understand.

The purr stops, but he doesn't tense up again. Instead, his hand begins to slowly stroke my hair. I wonder briefly what we must look like. A ridiculously powerful werewolf holding a tiny necromancer, both petting the other. I smile against Derek's chest.

Derek's voice is a gruff, reluctant mumble. "I thought that was finally it. I thought you'd finally had enough with me: over-protective, over-bearing, stubborn, unreasonable, and grumpy. I thought you…I thought you'd finally come to your senses, that you were done..." He can't finish and his chin rests on the top of head, rubbing softly back and forth.

My hands in his hair tighten, pulling—probably uncomfortably—on his hair. No. He wouldn't, couldn't think that I'd break up with him over _Ted_? Could he?

"No." My voice is strong, powerful and Derek staggers at the sound of it. My arms move to clamp around his waist in a vice like grip. "No."

"Yes." Derek whispers and I gasp. "I panicked, thinking you were slipping through my fingers. So, I…"

His behavior now has an explanation. Everything, the gripping too tightly, the possessiveness, the rough touches, they all make sense. Everything was not alright in Derek's mind. He saw me slipping away and reacted instinctively. He took me away from everyone else to the forest, to a place where we were the only ones left. And he possessed me in the most effective way possible. I'm not ready for sex yet, but I think that's the direction this was headed.

"No. No, no, no." I tilt my head back so I can see his face. His eyes are screwed up in pain and it's a shock. This is not Derek. Derek doesn't ever look like this. Where is my defiant, sarcastic, smart, strong boyfriend? Who is this vulnerable boy?

But I have seen him like this before. Not exactly, but I've seen him afraid and in pain during a Change. A different pain, of course, pain that's physical and only lasts as long as the injury is there. This is emotional, mental pain. I marvel at the thought, I am bewildered at the thought, that Derek is like this because he thought he was losing me.

"Derek." My voice is barely a whisper, but he can hear perfectly with his werewolf hearing. He doesn't open his eyes, but I know he's listening. "Derek, I will not beak up with you. I will never leave you. You'll have to leave me."

And there is such conviction and sincerity in my voice that he shudders and the pained look leaves his face. I place one hand on his cheek and wait for him to look at me. When he does, I lock gazes with him and say again, "I. Will. Not. Leave."

He swallows and his hand goes to my face, too. He leans down and gives me the sweetest, gentlest kiss, his lips barely brushing mine and lingering.

After a while, as the sun descends, we find the motivation to head back to the house. Briefly, I wonder if anyone saw us leaving the house. I let the thought drift away, deciding not to care. We walk slowly, taking in the feeling of walking next to each other. Our steps are in sync and we walk with our sides toucing and arms around each other. I don't want to leave the privacy of the forest. I sigh and continue walking, knowing if I voice that thought, Derek will makes us stay out here. No way would he pick the house over the forest.

But we can't stay here forever.

As we near the house, Derek tenses.

"What is it?" I ask him. He furrows his brow and his head tilts to the side as if he hears something. He looks very wolfish.

"What?" I ask again.

He huffs and turns his head to look at me, exasperated. "You're impatient," he states.

I nod. "Yes. Now tell me, what do you hear?"

He looks at me impassively and I can't tell what he's thinking and then he shrugs. "Tori and Simon. They're fighting about something petty. I think the bathroom."

I groan. Tori and Simon will find any excuse to avoid each other, and if they can't they fight. And it usually escalates until something blows up or is broken. Unless someone stops them.

As we continue, even I, the necromancer with perfectly human-average hearing, can hear shouting and breaking objects. Then a new voice joins the yelled argument. One that is more familiar. Aunt Lauren.

When we enter the house through the side door, the farthest entrance from the kitchen and the yelling match, Derek drops my hand and winds his arm around my waist, pulling me into his side. I don't move right away, but after a second's contemplation, decide to slide my hand into his back pocket. I peek up to see his lips twitch. The mood between us seems to lighten fractionally.

Suddenly, our names are being called. "Derek! Chloe! Come on, you're going into town. Now!" Aunt Lauren's voice sounds frustrated and irritated.

We walk into the room.

"What? Why?" I ask, not moving my hand from Derek's pocket even as Aunt Lauren squints at us. She can't see where my hand is exactly and if she could, I wouldn't care. Her attitude toward Derek is becoming intolerable.

Tori is leaning against the counter staring stonily at the fridge, looking like she wishes that the fridge would explode. Simon is slumped in a chair, an arm on the table and he glowers at the ground. His fingers tap an impatient rhythm on the table and he's tense. Jeez, what did they say to each other?

I worry briefly about the two. They are supposed to be family. Not that I expect them to be buddy-buddy, but they could show a little civility toward each other. Instead, they're either indifferent or hostile. I'm an only child. I can't imagine having a sibling, but I think if I had one, I'd at least be civil if not loving. It's family, for Pete's sake.

Aunt Lauren sighs. "I think you kids need to get out. You've been here too much. Go to town, spend some money, have fun. Do something," and then she mumbles under breath something that sounds like "just give me a little peace," but I can't be sure.

Derek nods. "Okay. I'll drive." And he turns around, taking me with him and we stroll casually out of the room. When I hear Aunt Lauren's intake of breath, I remember that my hand is on Derek's ass. I fight my smile, but I feel Derek shaking with silent laughter. I can hear Tori's reluctant chuckle, too and Simon's loud guffaw.

We wait in the van for Tori and Simon. Simon's black eye from yesterday has gotten darker, making him look as menacing as Simon will ever look. Tori changed into a dark blue shirt and white shorts before getting in the van. Simon sits on the middle bench and Tori climbs into the very back. I suppress a sigh. They can't even sit next to each other.

We get to the mall around 3:45. The parking lot is packed and I can only imagine what it's like inside. I glance at Derek. He's tense and his jaw is clenched. He won't like this. Too many people.

I look around. Across from the mall are several separate stores. A Lowe's, Home Depot, Kohl's, and Old Navy. I know that across town there's a small strip mall that is made of small businesses. A small restaurant that is surprisingly nice, a hair and nail place, a quilting store, a bookstore that sells weird books as well as odd supplies, and a boutique that has the most adorable clothes. It's much lower key than any store near the mall or the mall itself.

I make a decision. "Tori, Simon." They stop their amble toward the mall. Derek has been waiting for me while I think and stands only a foot or two away from me. He's never far.

"Derek and I are gonna go check out the strip mall on the other side of town. You wanna come?" I resist glancing at Derek. I wait for him to object, knowing I didn't consult him before announcing a decision he didn't make. Nothing comes.

I peek at him, but his head is down so I can't see his expression. Uh oh. I'll hear about this later.

But then his mouth twitches and I know he's not too mad.

"What? No." Tori looks like her bad mood just dropped further and she's pissed. "You and Derek," her voice is whiney. "You always go off with each other and leave Simon and me on our own. Do you think we want to spend _any_ time together? Seriously? Because neither of us wants to be near the other much less be forced together because you two always leave."

Tori's face is a blotchy red and her hands are flexing. I take a step toward her, my hands raised as if I'm approaching a frightened animal. She looks ready to explode. God, this is a trying afternoon. Good thing Lauren and Kit aren't hear, or Tori would never make it to college.

"Tori, calm down. We're not trying to force you two together." I try to make eye contact with her and send calming vibes at her, but she's shaking with rage. What the hell is going on? One second ago she was just pouting, now she's in a full outrage.

"Yes you are!" she's almost screaming at me. "It's always Derek and Chloe this, Derek and Chloe, that. Well, I'm sick of it."

Derek places his hand on my shoulder, stopping my progress forward. His hand is a warning. _Don't get any closer, Chloe, or I'm going to haul you over my shoulder and carry you away._ I freeze. Simon is giving me a hard look, probably trying to tell me the same thing Derek is. He's slowly inching away himself.

Frantically, I try to think of something to calm her down.

"Listen, Tori. There are a lot of people in the mall," I blurt out, trying to explain quickly and calmly. My voice is low and I hope steady. I pray for no stuttering. "I'm sure you've noticed by now that Derek gets a little, um…twitchy when we're in crowds. I just thought a low key, smaller strip mall would be better. I didn't want to force you into going if you wanted to stay here, but I also invited you." And then, the mistake.

Tori seemed to be listening to me, maybe calming down a bit. Her breathing was slowing and she was shaking less. Her fists stayed in tight fist. I forgot about Derek and Simon and completely focused on Tori. I took another step forward.

"NO!" Suddenly, I was being hauled over Derek's shoulder and we were flying behind the van. A loud _bang_ sounded behind us and then there was the sound of a fight: skin slapping skin, a fist hitting flesh, and grunts.

Derek had me pressed up against the van, standing in front of me and crouched low. He looked very much like a wolf protecting his pack. I was frozen where I stood.

Then the sound of the fight stopped. Derek turned his head around to look at me, fury in his eyes.

His voice is low and carefully controlled when he speaks. "You weren't supposed to get any closer."

I can't respond and after a minute, he let's go of me. "You want me to trust you?" Suddenly, the conversation from the kitchen comes back to me. How could I forget what cause Derek's distress earlier. I nod tentatively. His eyes are at once, glacial and buring with fury. "How can I trust you when you do stupid-stubborn shit like this." Derek's swearing. He's pissed.

I look down. "I know. I'm sorry." I look up at him, begging him not to get mad. He looks like he's going to stay mad for a second, but then his shoulders slump and he shakes his. He reaches up and clasps my chin and gives my a hardy, swift kiss. "Well, you wouldn't be Chloe if you didn't something stupid once in awhile." He lets go of my chin. I decide not to get my back up about that comment and let it go. Derek's letting it go about almost getting mysefl blown by an unstable-yes, unstable-Tori.

I slump against the van for a second before running back around the it. Derek follows more slowly.

The van has a dent in it, scorch marks surrounding it. Tori must have thrown some kind of energy bolt at me. I shudder to think about it hitting me instead of the van.

Simon has Tori pinned beneath him and she is making harsh sounds that are scarily close to sobs. When she looks up, though, her eyes are dry. "That was bad," is all she says. I nod.

Everything calms down in a flash and Simon lets Tori up. He doesn't offer her a hand up, but instead walks over to Derek. They have a quick, whispered conversation as I walk over to Tori and help her up. Her nose is bleeding and she has a split lip. She holds her ribs and I assume they're bruised. Simon doesn't look injured except for the black eye from yesterday.

Tori stands but won't look at me. "Sorry," she mumbles and the whispering behind me stops. Derek growls menacingly and I know that I shouldn't have gone over to her. I turn and glare at him, just as he takes his first step toward me, his intent clear in his blazing eyes. I am not letting him get in another lift-her-over-my-shoulder move. He stops but glares at me, furious and torn. He knows I'll be pissed if he takes another step but he doesn't trust Tori.

I look back at Tori and she's looking open-mouthed at Derek, fear clear in her eyes. She knows what he can do. Her eyes flick to me and her mouth closes as she looks at the ground again. "Sorry," she says again. "I'll leave. You know, go to the mall. You guys take the van. I'll call later if I need a ride." And before I can argue and insist she stay with us after her total loss of control, she's running full tilt toward the mall.

Since I've become a decent runner, and Tori does little running or exercising, I know I can catch her and Derek could have, too, but we both let her go. I let her go, because, honestly, I don't know what to say to her. Her loss of control is unacceptable. She should be getting better control of herself, but instead she's all over the place. One minute she's being helpful and finding necromancer tips online, the next she's jealous that Derek and I are always going off on our own and is blowing my head off with an energy bolt.

Suddenly, Derek is right beside me. I take his hand we get back in the van and head toward the strip mall. After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, Simon starts talking about his comic. I grab onto the subject gratefully and we begin a debate over the greater creative possibilities between aliens and robots. I'm for robots, he's for aliens. Derek chips in every other sentence, and seems to be against both of us, though he's not coming up with a better possibility himself.

The mood lifts and I start to feel guilty about leaving Tori behind. But then, if she were here, the debate would have been declared stupid, useless, geeky, and boring by her. I stop my thoughts about her and laugh at Derek's view on aliens from a different galaxy.

**(Jaime's POV)**

I try to keep a positive attitude as I walk toward the small strip mall in the town that's almost two hours from my hotel in Richmond. I need to stock up on some materials and I know the owner of _The Tome_, a bookstore/necromancer's-dream-supply-store. I need to replace some supplies, mainly dogwood bark, dried maté, and vervain.

I reach up to rub the tension out of my shoulders and neck and spot the store just up ahead. Last night I had spent most of the night talking with Eve. She needs information on a family that was killed in a fire in the 1800s. I spent more time on that than sleeping. And all morning I had been with my manager, J.D., as we tried to take the new venue from _dining hall_ to _séance. _It was more difficult than I'd anticipated, but I'd kept a smile on my face. I really need to get some sleep.

Now, I let myself sulk just a little, now that there isn't anyone to impress. I haven't heard back from Jeremy since I left him a message that I wouldn't get to see him for another week. I miss my boyfriend. Although, _boyfriend_ doesn't quite capture what Jeremy and I feel for each other, it's usually how I introduce him.

As I walk into _The Tome_ behind a group of three teenagers, I feel my phone vibrate. I sigh as I pull it out of my jeans pocket. I don't wear jeans often, but today was definitely a jeans day; I'm not going to redecorate a dining hall in chiffon or silk.

I glance at the screen and can't suppress my sigh when I see the caller ID. J.D.

"Hello?" I answer brightly, hiding my weariness. _What does he want now?_

"Hey, Jaime. Sorry to bug you, but I just wanted to let you know how much we all appreciate how much you've helped out, this morning and the past month. We know how hard you've been working. I especially wanted to thank you for not making a huge deal out of changing venues. You've been…Well, I can't even think of a word to describe how awesome you've been."

His voice is so sincere and I can't help but feel my heart swell. All those fake smiles pay off in moments like this. No one wants to work with a diva and I made it my mission to be the opposite.

"Aw, thanks, J.D. You've been awesome too. I know how much it takes produce the shows. Everyone's been great. Of course, I don't mind the venue change. Who could've anticipated water damage?" I try not let the lie in my voice be detected.

"Wow, Jaime. You're really something. I don't think I know anyone who is as understanding as you. Especially in show business." I smile as I thank him before getting off the phone.

With my mood lifted fractionally, I pay more attention to my surroundings. The store is lined with dusty old books and odd nick-knacks. The musty smell of the books is stifling but I ignore it and head toward the back of the store to the counter. Paul is there, reading a text that looks to be written in Latin. The three teens are browsing the books, whispering to each other. I can't help but wonder why teens would be in here instead of the mall.

I give them a brief glance and take in the differences of them. One of the boys looks like a blond Asian, another like a linebacker, and the third, a very young girl, just starting look like a teenager. She has small curves, a tiny stature, and red-blond hair. I give my sympathy to the girl, who's probably older than she looks if she's hanging out with these older boys.

As I watch, the big linebacker wraps his arm around her and pulls her into his side, and lifts a book down from a tall shelf that the girl was pointing at. She smiles and he leans down to give her a kiss and nip at her nose. She giggles and the blond Asian boy shoves the big linebacker. The linebacker shoves back and snarls quietly at the boy. Something about the gesture seems familiar in a disturbing way. The big linebacker's eyes suddenly meet mine and I turn away, not wanting to be rude and stare at him. I give a small, embarrassed smile to be caught watching the exchange between him and his obvious girlfriend. I turn to Paul.

"Hey, Paul." Paul Viscotti is the owner of the store. We're also on a first name basis. Our families have done business for centuries. "I need to restock." He gives a smile and without a word, leads me into the back room. Fifteen minutes later I leave with everything I need.

The three teens are still there, now sitting on the floor and with several books open around them. I am just about to walk out the door when the girl's voice floats over to me in the silent store.

"But, how does anyone ever survive an infection from a zombie, then? Jeez. When I think of all the times they were crawling all over me…What could've happened..." A low growl interrupts her.

I swing my head around, intrigued by what she said. _Did she say zombie?_ I am suddenly _very_ curious about these teenagers.

I see now that the linebacker has pulled the girl onto his lap and his hugging her in a bruising grip. The blond boy is staring horrified at the books.

My thoughts are in a tizzy. Why would these kids be in here looking at necromancer books and talking about zombie infections? And such a strange group of kids. None of them look like they'd be friends, yet here they are. A crazy possibility flits through my head, but it's too preposterous and I dismiss it before a thought is even fully formed in my head.

I force myself to believe that it's nothing, though my instincts are screaming at me that there's more to this and I should figure it out. But that would mean more problems and more time away from Jeremy. Probably these kids are just looking for material to pull a prank on their friends. Or looking for information for a school project. There has to be an innocent explanation.

I turn around very deliberately walk back to my car, get in and start driving. When I glance back at the store, the kids are leaving, several books in their arms. Two hours later, back at my hotel, I call Jeremy.

"Hey. Um, I'm not sure if I should even mention it, but I saw something strange in this store today…"


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Kelley Armstrong owns the characters and plots from her Darkest Powers and Women of the Otherworld Series, not I.**

**(Jeremy's** **POV) **

"Clay, sit down please." Clay is pacing the study and making a low growling noise. He sits, but glares at me and continues to growl.

"Clay!" Elena snaps and he huffs before cutting off the growl.

I sigh. "I understand your concern, but I think that if anything really is going on down in Richmond, I or Elena can better handle it than you, Clay."

"I know that!" Clay snaps. "I know that when it comes to teenagers, you and Elena are always better choices. I think I need to go because—"

I raise my hand to cut him off. "We've been over this. Normally, I would send Elena, but I want to go."

I haven't given this reason for going to be with Jaime yet and had hoped that I wouldn't have to. I don't ever _want_ anything as far as the Pack knows. I enjoy marksmanship and painting and Jaime's company. But the Pack Alpha doesn't ever _want_ to do anything except do what's best for the Pack. I don't self-indulge. Ever.

Elena smiles smugly and Clay stares at me silently. Then he stands. "Okay." And he leaves the room. "Tell Jaime 'Hi' from me."

This time I don't say anything from surprise. Clay doesn't ever talk to Jaime voluntarily. I know now that Clay will be considerably more tolerable towards Jaime, but I had wanted him to get to this point on his own. Maybe he never would have.

Elena leans back into the couch, still smiling at me. I stare impassively at her. "Elena." I smile at her, just barely.

Suddenly, there's a ruckus outside. Kate and Logan are tussling in nearby brush, Kate squealing and Logan laughing. Elena smiles and stands up, looking longingly at the door.

"Go." I say it softly, indulging Elena. She turns to look at me, torn. Then she straightens her back, her hands going to her hips.

"No." I sigh, already knowing what she's going to do.

"Come on, Jeremy. Please, take someone with you. We don't know if anything's going to come of what Jaime said, but we can't afford any mistakes. Please, take Noah. Reese. Nick, Antonio, someone. Just don't go again without backup. If something like those humans doing magic happens again, Clay won't let you out of this house again without backup." Her eyes tell me she has sympathy for what I have to go through and relief that she doesn't have to. Yet. I'm supposed to have total authority and be able to do whatever I damn well please. But I have responsibility and if the Pack doesn't want me to go I need to honor that.

I sigh. I expected this. I just thought it would be Clay saying it, not Elena. But naturally, I suppose Clay knew if he didn't get his way, Elena would get hers and it was close enough to his wants that he'd settle.

Yes. If Clay couldn't come with me to personally bodyguard me, then he'd let Elena talk me into taking someone else instead. Choosing between staying at home with his family and leaving to protect me is difficult, but he'll always protect me if Kate and Logan are safe at Stonehaven.

"I've already phone Tonio. Reese left a couple hours ago. He should be here within the hour. Noah will be coming, too." I raise my eyebrow at Elena when she doesn't respond.

She doesn't react at first but then a slight smile is turned toward me. "Can I suggest something?" I hold my hand out, inviting her to speak freely. Not that she wouldn't anyway.

She leans forward, suddenly intent. "Take Nick, not Noah. Nick's getting restless, he needs something to distract him. The business isn't enough anymore. Reese and Noah don't need constant babysitting either. He needs something." He face is worried, though she's trying not to be. Elena can't help worrying about everyone. Which is just one of the reason why she'll be a great Alpha.

After a moment's contemplation, I nod. "Okay, I'll make the call, get Nick to come, too. Noah can stay here with you and Clay. I know Clay wanted to teach him a few things." Elena smiles, knowing Clay will be pleased to be teaching Noah skills that Kate and Logan are too young to learn.

Then another change in mood, again. Elena is often jumping from thought to thought and her moods jump with them.

She looks irritated. "I could go with you," her voice close to a whine. After a reproaching look, I sigh again.

"No, you can't. And you know why." Without me here, Elena is in second in command. "Kate and Logan have a school program on Friday, don't they?" I say, trying for a distraction.

She gives me a stubborn look that says she knows what I'm doing. Then she chooses to let it go. As she should. Elena smiles grudgingly. "Tell Jaime to get more sleep. I talked to her this morning. She didn't tell you, but Eve kept her up most of the night researching a family dying in a fire. Then she had that whole redecorating thing." Elena sits back down and stares out of the window, thinking about something. I wait.

"You know, when I first met Jaime, I thought she was a flighty ditz." Her words stir up an anger I am not usually comfortable feeling, but I hide it from her. Mostly because I know there's a 'but' coming.

Elena looks back at me, expressionless except for the worry in the slight tensing of her facial muscles and the stiff posture of her back. "If I could think something like that about Jaime, I wonder what it means about my judgment."

This is not the first time Elena has subtly hinted that she wouldn't be the best choice for Pack Alpha without outright saying she doesn't want it. She does, she just doubts herself.

My mouth flattens into a hard line and I think a moment before responding. "Could you go down with Kate and Logan to the front gate to meet Reese and Noah?" Choosing to ignore her worries never works, but Elena is smart enough to know that she'll get an answer. How she'll get her answer is the mystery. Sometimes I don't even have to give one and she comes up with it by herself. Other times, it is subtle things, like how I answer one of the other's questions, and it doubles as an answer to her. She always knows when it's for her.

Elena waits for me to say more and when I don't she stands with a sigh and turns to leave.

I say, quietly, before she closes the door, "Easy to do that with Jaime. She's a very hard woman to uncover, she's guarded." Elena freezes in the doorway without turning to look at me. "You are not the only one who was surprised."

After Elena has left, I head upstairs to grab my suitcase and call Jaime.

I leave a message on her voicemail when she doesn't answer. "Hey, it's Jeremy. I am coming and will be there Friday before your show on Saturday. I am bringing Nick and Reese and we'll stop in with Karl on the way. I've been meaning to talk to him for awhile, but he's been ignoring me. I need his particular skills, but he won't leave Hope for anything less than an outright global emergency.

"I got your message about the teenagers, by the way. I am not sure if it's anything to be troubled about. See you soon." The beep signaling my time is up sounds before I whisper, "But I think there's more going on than we can guess with those kids, Jaime. I can feel it. Be careful."

**(Tori's POV)**

I'm falling apart. The seams of my sanity are really coming undone this time. I collapse and start to curl into the fetal position, convulsing.

Emotions are racing through me: fear, anger, rage, confusion. So many things. I can't handle it, so I grip my hair and start pulling on it. I can hold this—my hair—tug this, feel this through everything racing around inside me. I feel other things, too. The tile is too cold, too hard. The slight moisture in the walls is grimy. The pounding of my heart is too hard, too loud in my ears. I feel fevered: sweat beads on my forehead while I shudder and shake with shivers. I'm burning alive and freezing to death.

The women's bathroom in the gas station I ran to is a single person room; no one can see me imploding. I ran here instead of the mall, not trusting myself to be around all those people. I can't trust myself around the only people I've ever cared about and have ever cared about me.

My hands are stiff and seizing with magic that I can't get under control, but somehow I'm not letting it out. The pressure is killing me. My head is scarily blank and foggy with the high that comes with the magic that I've become addicted to. I'm worse than a heroin addict, constantly sipping magic throughout the day. One moment, flying high, the next crashing and burning. Often I come back to reality and see that the world is burning too. Like the microwave or pictures on the wall. Or a dent in the van, with scorch marks in it. _No, no, no. Don't think about that. Chloe's fine. Derek protected her. He'll always protect her. You don't need to worry about Chloe._ The voice in my head is at once, welcome and terrifying. I know it all too well.

The magic is so tempting…and it's _always there._ It never goes away, is never far from the surface. Welcoming, encouraging me to take a sip, just a small sip of its lovely and potent power. The bitch of the magic always being there isn't so much its coaxing voice. The bitch is that it is constantly cueing me into things I'd rather it not cue me into. A sixth sense blown way out of proportion.

But what's really fucked up is—it's also a comfort. Insane, right? But it is like…(no judgment from this sappy comparison, alright?) a blanket in a cold world—constantly providing warmth as it runs through my veins with fire.

Power, seductive and invigorating. There is no fear with magic.

But when I have magic, the thought of control disappears. And what's more, why would I want to control something as beautiful as unbridled, untamed, glorious magic? Why would I do that? You don't cover up art. You don't kill babies. No. It's wrong, on so many levels.

I feel it again. It's building, pounding on the walls of my tenuous control. Whispering sweet, compelling words to me. My mind fogs more, my blood sings. I can't think…and I remember why.

Why I want to cover up this art.

Why I want to kill this baby.

Why I want to control this magic.

Because that beauty, that baby, that art…is a disguise for pain, chaos, and destruction. It's all a façade. It's lies and cheats and manipulation. I don't know about all other types of magic, but my magic…it's a killer. Pure and simple, it brings destruction.

_It also gives me immense power. I can do anything with it. I have no limitations, no chains. Freedom._

Damn it, damn it. I plug my ears and rock faster, faster. No, no, no. Lies, lies, lies. It's not real, Tori. Not real. Rocking, moaning, keening, scratching at the tile, pulling my hair.

A place, a tiny, tiny place, clears in my head. The fog ascends momentarily, and I grasp at the part of me that's revealed, lunging and holding on with everything I have left. I hold _this _like a newborn. I revel in the piece of myself and covet it like art. I protect it, curling myself around it, shield it from the fog. And I breathe. I feel my lungs ballooning, inhaling and exhaling. The rhythm is ragged and uneven. But it's something I can feel, besides the magic.

I come back into myself, pulling out of the crazy person fog that magic transfixes me in. I notice that I am cold and rocking back forth on a bathroom floor of a Kum-&-Go. Keening softly to myself, I'm hugging my knees and my hair is falling into my face, long and wild.

Oh, God. What's happening to me?

Mentally, I slap myself. I stop keening, stop rocking. _Come on, Tori. Get a hold of yourself. You can do this._

With an extreme effort, I start stitching the seams back together.

My breathing evens out and my heart rate descends. The sweat beads roll down my face and collect in the hollow bellow my neck and around the neckline of my t-shirt. Magic still pulses through me, but I think about my breathing, using the yoga techniques I learned, channeling my instructor's soothing voice and try to bring peace to myself.

It doesn't work, I'll never have peace, but the magic is leashed. For now.

I grab some toilet paper from the roll on the wall above my head and wipe my face clean of tears. Suddenly, I mourn what my white shorts will look like after sitting on this dirty floor.

I take a few more minutes to compose myself a little more, getting re-acclimated to having the magic racing through my veins instead of flowing and pulsing out of me. I feel the burn of containing my magic and close my eyes against the pain. If I have to live with this my entire life, with the burning fire getting worse every time I lose control, I'm going to have a short life. Whether my life ends naturally or not, by my hand or not, remains to be seen. But I don't know how much longer I can stand this.

My legs raise me up and I clutch the dirty sink for support, my legs shaking like a newborn colt's. I can't feel my toes and realize they've fallen asleep, as well as my butt. I rub my backside, trying to regain some feeling. At the same time I check myself in the mirror.

I look horrible, as is expected after having a breakdown in the bathroom of a gas station. My hair is a disaster and running my fingers through it only seems to make it worse, wilder. I try to get all the tear stains off my face and reapply minimal makeup from the emergency stash I have in my purse. The result is limited success. My nose is red, my eyes watery and fear lingers in my expression as well as despair. But I don't have to hide it. I'm on my own. No one cares what's going on with me here. I can act however I want. It's a relief, not pretending to be normal and balanced. Not that I do a particularly good job of that anyway, when it counts.

Someone bangs on the door, making me jump and I feel the magic surge, feeling like heart burn throughout my entire body. Heart burn after just eating a jar of jalapeño peppers.

I square my shoulders as I try not to double over from the pain of the magic and sling my purse over my shoulder and walk out of the bathroom. An angry mother rushes into the bathroom carrying a crying toddler.

When I leave the gas station, I have to decide what to do next. I can walk around, just wander aimlessly. But I want to be surrounded by people. Strangers. People who know nothing about me, have no judgment. I want to feel normal.

I head toward the mall, where I told Derek, Chloe and Simon and would be. I glance at my watch and figure that I have until 10:00 tonight before anyone gets worried about me being back at the house. I have just about six hours, a little less.

When I get to the mall, I pick a table in the food court and just people watch.

Two couples about my age, maybe a year or two younger than me, are walking toward a pretzel stand. They look like they're on a double date, all talking animatedly to their dates. As I watch, the skinny blond in the group jumps into her boyfriend's arms and wraps her legs around him and they're laughing. He swings her around before going to stand in line, still holding her despite her protests.

A mom a few tables away from me struggles to calm her screaming toddler and clean up the mess he made with his ice cream cone. She looks tired and her clothes are dull and look worn often.

Countless people walk by on there way to various stores, stopping to grab a bite to eat or not. Some in a hurry, some just here for a leisurely day with friends. Single people, groups of teens, couples of all ages. Big, tall, skinny, short, emo, preppy, well-groomed or not. And I hear countless conversations. A couple fighting, two friends planning a surprise party, three Frat boys hooting about last night's party, middle aged men and women complaining, and three colleges girl bitching about a professor. They all walk by me as I sit.

After a while, I get up and grab some fries to eat while I watch. I snack until they're gone and my mind is numb to everything except the dull burn in my body.

When I've had enough of wallowing in self-pity about how I'll never be like any of these people, carefree and normal, I get up and start to wander through stores. I pick up and discard shirts and shorts and pants and skirts. I buy a few. Then I try on a dress I think I'll wear to Jaime Vegas's show. I buy that too. I browse through books and phone covers and look at the newest version of the iPhone. Then, I let myself go to the place I really want to go.

The Mac store.

I revel in the technology there, looking at programs and computers and all kinds of gadgets. I don't buy and don't touch. I just look.

I glance at my watch and see that I should leave before the mall closes and find somewhere else spend the remaining hours before I'm forced to go to the farmhouse.

As I'm leaving the store, a guy bumps into me and I flinch. I've avoided touching anyone so far. The contact is just as bad as I thought it would be. Flames lick through my veins starting at the point on my arm where the stranger brushed me. The pain is excruciating and I can't help but let out a hiss and turn to glare at the guy who mumbles 'sorry.'

I freeze when I see whom I'm glaring at. I've seen this guy before. Oh, no.

Apparently, he knows me, too. "Hey!" a gorgeous smile is turned my way. Beautiful, pale skin and golden blond hair, muscles like a god, and the smile of an angel. Eyes as golden as his hair, reflect earnestness at me. Randy. "Aren't you the girl who's always at the computer class at the Rec?" _Yes, yes I am. Now play it cool, Tori. It's only a boy. Sure, the most swoon worthy boy you've ever met, but still just a boy._

It's a moment before I can speak, so I cover the silence by moving my hands into my back pockets and stopping my glare, though my skin still burns and my body radiates pain. I swallow. "Uh, yeah. I think I've seen you there before." Damn, my voice sounds hoarse from disuse and crying. I try to remember if I fixed my makeup after my breakdown. Shit, is there still dirt on my pants? That's just what I need, Hot Randy seeing my dirt covered ass.

Another smile and Randy reaches up, I think to put his hand on my arm, saying "Sorry I ran into you. I was distracted," but I quickly take a step back so he can't touch me again. Great, I finally have a opportunity to touch _Randy_ and I can't because at the moment it'll feel like a blowtorch. His brows furrow and a confused look crosses his face before his hand drops awkwardly back to his side. After a moment the look disappears and he hides it. His smile looks more embarrassed now and he runs his hand over the back of his head. Oh, cute. A nervous gesture.

I clear my throat before speaking this time, hoping to not sound so gruff. "Uh, no problem. Same with me. I mean, I was distracted, too." Damn, I'm practically stuttering, like Chloe. I give a slight smile, barely, through the pain _that won't go away _and look him in the eye. "Anyway, uh, I'm Tori." A fuller smile now, in place of the handshake that I desperately wish I could give him. I can't handle touching him right now.

His smile is less embarrassed now and his shoulders relax. I realize he'd tensed up when I wouldn't let him touch me. He must not be used to people shying away from him. "I'm Randy." His voice makes my knees feel weak. A low bass voice that resonates power and dark promises. I swallow, loudly unfortunately.

"I know." Oh, shit. Did I just say that?

He gives me another, more confused look and his head tilts sideways. "Huh?"

I laugh, and it sounds casual. Thank God. I can cover this mishap. "I just mean, I've seen you at the Rec before. You work there, right?" When he nods, still looking confused, I hold my hand up to my chest and pretend to trace a nametag. "You wear a nametag. I noticed." Duh, I think.

He lets out a quick chuckle. "Oh, right. Duh. I've worked there all through high school and we never had nametags. It's a new thing. I guess I'm still getting used to it."

_All through high school, huh? How old are you? Sophomore or Freshman in college? Are you in college? _ I don't think he's more than just a few years older than me.

There's an awkward pause and I know it's time for this little shindig to end.

"Well, maybe I'll see you later," I say and take a step back, the door to the store opening a couple inches behind me. He nods.

"Yeah, definitely. See you, Tori." He gives a little half wave and I turn around to leave. As I look back when I'm outside of the store and walking away, he's turned around and is talking to a cashier, a cute blond.

Well, that was…interesting. And, weird enough, I don't feel as depressed anymore. I take a deep breath and decide not to wait until ten to go back to the farmhouse. I pull out my phone.

"Chloe?...Yeah, are you guys still in town?...Yeah, I'm done shopping, too. Are you guys ready to head back yet?...Okay. Bye."

I sit down to wait for the van to get here and watch more normal people walk in and out of the mall. As I sit there, my earlier melancholy returns. I realize that Randy is human. Very much so. I can fantasize all I want about him, but really, what kind of relationship could we have? Friends? Boyfriend/Girlfriend? I don't think even friends would be safe. I'm dangerous. My life is dangerous.

Randy is just an unsuspecting guy that I like to stare at. And had a kind of conversation with a few minutes ago. He's also obviously into cute blond cashiers. What am I thinking?

But that just leads to another thing. Will I ever get a boyfriend? Will I be a spinster? Or am I going to have to pull a Chloe and fall for a supernatural? _No! I refuse to date a werewolf. I do not need that protective shit Chloe deals with constantly._

I sigh again. _Don't think about it. Just get through tonight. Look forward to the show on Saturday and _try_ to control your stupid magic._

_Easier said than done, _I tell myself.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Randy and Ted, the only new characters.**

**(Tori's POV)**

For the next two days, I do little but eat, do homework, and look up necromancer and witch stuff, keeping up my end of the deal with Chloe. I've had little interest in talking to anyone and the stupid 'family' dinner we had last night was gawd-awful. Simon and Chloe chattered annoyingly and Derek had a conversation with Kit about colleges. Apparently, Kit has no problem with discussing the issue of college with _Derek._ It's just me he has a problem with. Not that I blame him.

Actually, after yesterday, I completely agree. I can't go to college. I can't be trusted. I really am a ticking time bomb.

Instead of talking to Chloe about the information I find on Necromancer rituals, I print them out and start to annotate the copies. Better than forcing a conversation with her in which she'll be sweet and cute and I'll bite her head off and start a fight. A one sided fight, because Chloe never seems to give back any of the insults I give her. She's gotten better at sticking up for herself, but being a bully just isn't in her nature.

So I drop the papers off at her room and leave them on her bed. She's given me a couple of books that she found at some bookstore near the strip mall. I've started reading them, but I can't concentrate for long and end up just sitting quietly staring at the pages.

I guess Chloe, Derek, and Simon were really successful and found a bunch of supernatural books. None on werewolves except fiction, but the necromancy information in them seemed legit enough. I wonder if Derek ever gets frustrated or worried about werewolf stuff. Probably not. He can probably solve any problem that comes his way with his super brain.

I bring my thoughts back to the present, though, as I put on a darker shade of lipstick that completes my look. I'm wearing my new dress and getting ready for Jaime Vegas's show. The dress is a little too short to be appropriate, but I like it. The soft material is maroon and my golden sandals match the beading on the dress. I let my hair wave out around me and look at the final product.

Hot damn. I look good. Not that I don't always look good.

I hear Lauren call my name and not for the first time, feel a pang of loneliness. Chloe misses her dad, I know. Lauren and Chloe figured out a way a couple of weeks ago to get a message to him, but they don't know if it was successful and Chloe wouldn't be able to get any kind of answer back. So she misses him and occasionally she talks about it. She's not a complainer, but I can tell she misses him. She can kind of relate, but not really. She has her aunt. I have a biological father I'm confused about.

Simon and Derek both have only ever had their dad and they're used to this lifestyle of running. They don't have much to miss. Now they have some tag alongs that I'm sure get on their nerves, (meaning me).

But I don't have anyone. Not my aunt or my dad. My mother is dead. My dad wouldn't help me. I spent my entire life trying to please my parents, occasionally succeeding with my dad, but never with my mother. Then she dies, he doesn't care about me, and to top it all off…My father isn't my father. And my _real_ dad ends up finding out about me and meeting me on the same day he has to rescue my sorry ass from my own mother.

And I didn't find out about his true status in my life until months after we'd been on the run together. And the boy I had a crush on and went into a jealous fit over (locking Chloe in a crawl space) is actually—get this—my _half brother_.

So my life is…complicated.

It also sucks.

"Coming!" I yell back when Chloe calls up the stairs to see if I'm all right.

Once I get down the stairs, I see it's only Chloe and Lauren waiting for me. Chloe's wearing a bohemian chic dress that I made her buy about a month ago. She hadn't worn it yet, but it looks just as good as I thought it would on her. Chloe has the right look and is one of the few people who can pull off the bohemian chic look. Her hair is straight and earrings dangle from her ears, matching the necklace around her neck. Lauren, I have to admit, can dress up well, too. She's got on a sophisticated black dress and killer heals.

"Where are Simon and Derek? And Kit?" I ask when Lauren looks like she's about to protest my dress. Her frown and narrowed eyes say clearly that she disapproves of the length of my dress. Well, she's not my mother.

My distraction works, though.

Lauren gives a big smile like she's very proud of herself and says, "Well, I thought we could make this into a girl's night out! Just us three. The boys are going to do something tonight, too." Chloe rolls her eyes, clearing amused by her aunt's enthusiasm. I can guess that she'd rather Derek was coming, too. But having Lauren along always makes Derek and Chloe edgy. Her disapproval seems to be brought out full force in the presence of Derek and short dresses.

**(Jaime's POV)**

I glance around the curtain and scan the crowd looking for the werewolves.

I can't help bouncing a little in excitement. Jeremy got here last night and we talked for a couple of hours. The twins are great; they did amazing on the opening night of the play. It sounds like Clay was really excited about their acting skills and Elena was happy they were happy. Noah has been doing well, working for Antonio's company, doing part time security. Mostly he's learning the ropes, but he sounds like he likes it.

Jeremy had stopped to see Karl and Hope on the way here. Hope isn't doing too well, the pregnancy being harder on her than usual. Karl wasn't leaving her, but gave Jeremy a contact that could 'perform the task' Jeremy needs done. I didn't ask what that was about and Jeremy didn't elaborate.

Then we went to bed.

Delicious shivers run through me at the memory of last night. Jeremy's hands, touching me everywhere. His lips and warm body. And finally being in his arms, his embrace, again. It'd been a month since we were together. That's too long.

I peer around the curtain again and see Nick walk through the double doors of the dining-hall-turned-auditorium. Reese is right behind him and Jeremy brings up the rear. As they find their seats, Nick turns to Reese and says something with a sly smile that makes Reese laugh and Jeremy grin.

_Oh, I love that grin._ I'm so excited that they're here. Jeremy and Elena are the only ones from the Pack who've seen my show. I know Nick has seen videos on the internet, but live shows are always different. Excitement and nervous energy pumps into me and I turn my back on the audience.

I adjust my headpiece and mouthpiece that is skin colored and from a distance, you can't even tell I'm wearing it. My voice will start out being eerie and echo-like, and then will gradually become clearer once I get to the ghost talking part.

I run my hands down the front of my dress: a low-cut, form-fitting purple gown. A slit up the side allows for a little leg to show and the subtle beading creates a shimmery effect I love. Tonight, my hair is in tight ringlets that cascade around me, a thin headband barely keeping the mass out of my face.

I go through my pre-show ritual and take some deep breaths as the lights flicker on and off, signaling that show will begin shortly. J.D. comes up to me and hands me a water bottle. I take a large gulp before I hear soft music begin.

I grin at J.D. "Here we go!"

And I begin.

I walk onto the stage, keeping time to the beat of the music and start my introduction. The words I've said a hundred times before roll off my tongue. "There is a place beyond the veil…" and at the back of the room, I see the doors open quickly.

I don't squint, that would be bad. But I focus hard and can just barely make out some latecomers taking three seats at the back of the theatre.

In the first few minutes of my show, I make a few surreptitious looks toward Jeremy. He smiles each time and I have to struggle not to let my body get all hot and bothered by him.

As I stroll along the rows of people, talking to first a 'dead mother', then to a 'cousin', I see something strange. At first, I'm not sure and I take a good look, but whatever it was, it disappeared. A ghost. There's a ghost in this building, perhaps drawn by all the people now inhabiting it. More likely, the fact a necromancer is now here drew the ghost. But, it hadn't been here any other time I'd walked through the place. I give a mental sigh. Oh, well. I won't dwell on it. Having real ghosts always makes for a trickier show, but not impossible.

A few more communications go by and I see another ghost, but ignore it, and don't acknowledge it at all. Another pops up later and I'm starting to wonder what's going on. None of these ghosts were here earlier. Why are they suddenly being drawn to this building? I don't acknowledge any ghosts and continue with the show.

I stroll toward the back row, and out of curiosity, decide to get a look at the latecomers.

When I see who it is, I freeze. My voice, carefully controlled only stops briefly before continuing on smoothly and perfectly otherworldly. "I sense something. A man. He's young…" And the show goes on. But my mind is on who I've just seen in the crowd.

One of the late comers is one of the teens. From the store. I continue in the same direction heading toward them, but avert my eyes from her, the small girl. She's wearing a dress now and her hair is straightened. She looks a couple years older without her large boyfriend around to dwarf her.

What is she doing here? The obvious answer is that she's a believer in the supernatural. She is interested in speaking to the dead. That would be the answer to why she was at Paul's store, too. And I remember that she'd been looking at necromancer books. The logical reason for her being here is that she wants to speak to a relative or friend. Grief. The usual reason for coming to my show. Suddenly, my heart goes out to the small girl.

But my instincts are trying to tell me something else. There's more to this.

I make a decision.

I walk to the girl. Her mother and another girl are sitting with her. I assume the older woman is her mother, anyway. They look related and they seem the right ages. The other girl must be a friend, though. She has a taller, more athletic build and long curly black hair. Doesn't look related at all.

"I'm sensing someone else." The girl looks less than impressed by me. Actually, she and her mother look livid. When I get closer, they stiffen. Oh, no. Maybe this isn't a good idea. They obviously don't believe me. Well, I'm not actually talking to any ghosts tonight, so they aren't wrong.

"A woman." And a ghost appears at my words, startling me enough that I look at her. The first ghost I react to tonight. The ghost is a middle aged woman. She has dark hair, tall, and a leering grin on her face. She glares at the red-blond haired girl. Though she's looking at the small girl, she has a startling resemblance to the other girl. The one who must be the friend. Suddenly, the reason for them being here changes from the small girl's loss to her friend's loss. Maybe this ghost is her mother and they came to contact her.

The woman doesn't seem pleasant. She gives a chilling laugh before disappearing.

I look away from where the ghost had been and back to the girl. And get another shock.

She staring open-mouthed and horrified at the place where the ghost was a moment before. Before I can speak, before I can do anything, continue on with show somehow, the girl leans over and whispers quickly and furiously with her mother and friend. They all get up and exit promptly.

The rest of the show is agonizingly slow, but I continue as if nothing happened. A few people get to contact their 'relatives' and 'friends' and the show is a hit. I don't look at Jeremy, Nick, or Reese again, afraid I'll give something away in my expression.

As soon as the applause has settled down, I exit the stage slowly, unhurriedly. And then I'm off. I run to my manager.

"I want to know who came in late," I say brusquely and head to my dressing room, trusting J.D. to find out who it was and tell me quickly. After I'm out of my dress and wearing a robe, I start pacing. I wait for Jeremy to get here, hopefully with Nick and Reese. I don't want to have to explain myself twice if Jeremy decides there's something in my hunch.

J.D. comes back before they arrive and I take the list of names from him. The tickets were bought online with a credit card addressed to Dr. Lauren Frend. I hear Nick and Reese laughing in the hallway.

Jeremy knocks on the door and I fling it open. "Did you see her?" I ask before he's even in the room. Nick, who looks like he was going to give me a hug, freezes and his grin drops. Suddenly, their mood is deadly serious, probably picking up on my frantic expression and twitchiness.

I'm panicky and nervous. The show and what just went on is freaking me out. I need to get a hold of myself. I start pacing again.

"Who? Jaime what happened?" Jeremy looks calm and put together. He holds his arms at his sides, tense but calm. He looks ready to take charge of anything. His attitude calms me enough to pause. I think for a second. I can handle this. We can handle this. The thought is a relief. Jeremy is here and he's brought more help. We can handle this. _If there is even anything to handle_, I think skeptically. But then my instincts surge and I know that there is more to this. I stop pacing and collapse into the chair in front of my mirror.

I smooth the paper with the name of the latecomers on my vanity station and turn back to the three men. There still standing, halfway in the hallway.

I motion for them to come further into the room and shut the door. Then I wave them onto the couch. All three werewolves look tense and concerned about whatever I'm about to tell them. Nick looks perplexed, but focused. Reese is just very intent.

I sigh and put my face in my hands. "Maybe it was nothing." Oh, god. What if I imagined it? What if that little girl didn't see the ghost? What if I'm overreacting?

Jeremy's hands come out of nowhere and are pulling my hands from my face and brushing my hair back. I didn't hear him get up from the couch. "What happened?" he says in a gentle yet demanding voice, not wanting to upset me, but needing to know what happened.

I bite my lip. "Did you see the three women who came in late? A woman and two teenage girls?" Jeremy's eyes narrow and he drops my hands, retreating back onto the couch.

All three werewolves nod.

I swallow and think about how to explain best to let them get the whole picture. I stand up and start pacing again, less frantic and more to think.

I take a deep breath and begin. I'll just go for it and hopefully I'll make sense. I gesture as I talk. "Well, the girl. The one with strawberry blond hair? You see her?" They nod. "She was with the group of teenagers I saw at the store in Danville, a town a couple hours from here. The store I went to for supplies." I look at Nick and Reese, then at Jeremy.

He shakes his head. "I didn't tell them. Go on."

I nod. "The store is one of few in America that is a necromancer's dream supply store. I figured since I'm only a couple hours away, and I know the owner, I'd makes a visit and stock up on supplies I was running low on. We, necromancers, can get almost anything we need there. Like a necromancer Wal-mart. This store is owned by Paul Viscotti and it doubles as a supernatural bookstore in case humans go in.

"When I got there, there was a group of teenagers just arriving. At first, I thought they were just an odd group of kids. One was big, really big, and he had kind of long black hair. Very solid. You know, looks like a linebacker. Another was Asian, more average sized, but with blond hair." I let that sink in and take a deep breath before continuing. "And the third was a girl. She's small, but she must have been older than she looked if she's hanging out with two guys who are older."

Nick and Reese are nodding at me, slightly confused looks on their faces. Oh, jeez. They probably think I'm being a silly woman, worrying about nothing. But I don't pay much attention to them, and try to remember every detail about that visit. Jeremy sits quietly, absorbing every word.

"So, these kids. They're browsing through the books, talking quietly. I try not to stare, but they are really just the oddest group. They don't look like the types to be hanging out together. And then, everything just gets weirder and weirder." I stop and turn to face them. Then I grab my chair and sit in it, facing them. I pull my robe tighter around me and try to speak as if I'm relating an amusing story.

My tone is serious and I don't quite achieve the nonchalant act.

"The girl points at a book on one of the upper shelves because she can't reach it. So the big guy reaches up and grabs it while at the same time," I pantomime pulling someone closer to me, into my side, "he wraps an arm around her and pulls her into his side. A very boyfriend move. He hands the book to her and" I lean forward so they get how weird I think this is, "_kisses her nose_."

I pause and wait for a reaction from what I've said so far. Nick looks amused and Reese has a stony expression, not giving anything away. His eyes are doubting though. Jeremy knows there's more, so he waits.

"Jaime, it's not that weird for a guy to kiss his girlfriend." Nick sounds like he's trying not to laugh.

I scowl and cross my arms. I ignore the last comment. "So, I'm thinking to myself that these two kids look like the last couple in world I'd pair together. He's a huge, linebacker type, and she's looks like she's barely a teenager and very delicate. What's a big strong guy like him hanging out with a girl like her?

"Then his friend, the blond Asian, shoves him and gives him a hard time about kissing the girl. Then the big guy," I glare at Nick, "_snarls_ at him at shoves him back. It's all very playful. And _disturbingly familiar_."

Nick has lost his smile and is looking confused again, concern back in his expression. Jeremy motions for me to go on.

"Anyway, the big guy catches me watching him so I turn back and get back to business. I decide not to think about the kids. Then, fifteen minutes later, I'm just about to leave the store and I walk by them.

"They've moved to the floor and have pulled down several books, with them lying open all around the three of them. I walk by and as I'm about to leave, I overhear what the is girl saying."

I take a deep breath but my heart is racing. This is just too weird, put together with tonight's events.

"She says, 'But, how does anyone ever survive an infection from a zombie, then? When I think of all the times they were crawling all over me…'" I stop because Nick's face has paled. Jeremy is frozen with tension, too. He hasn't heard this detailed of a version yet. We didn't talk about it last night and he only has my voice mail message to go off of. I wasn't very detailed in that.

"So, you can see why these kids have suddenly gotten my attention again. I turn to watch them again and I can see that the big guy has pulled the girl onto his lap and is comforting her. The blond Asian was staring at the book the girl had been looking at, with this horrified expression on his face."

I stop and think once again about how I should've seen how big a deal this was then. Not now, after she shows up at my show and sees a ghost. I continue talking, determined to inform them a quickly as possible. I doubt there is anything we can do tonight, but Jeremy will know better than I how to handle this.

"During the show—you wouldn't have known, obviously, I mean how could you?" I stop, noticing I'm rambling, and start again, more calmly. "During the show, ghosts were popping up like crazy." Reese pales and his eyes pop open. "I was here for the last three days and there weren't any ghosts around. Then, during my show, they starts popping up. I ignored it, but now I see a different explanation than just that the ghost became curious about the show.

"_That girl was at my show_. First she's at a necromancer supply store, then she's talking about zombies and infections. Now she's at my show. Do you guys see anything in this? Or am I overreacting?"

Nick looks sick and pale. Reese has his eyes closed and looks asleep, except for the tension in his body.

"_And, _I got close to them during the show. When I was nearing them, a ghost popped up, right next to the girl. I'd been ignoring the ghosts all show, not reacting to them, but this one i couldn't help looking at, it was so sudden. So I'm looking this ghost, a middle aged woman. She's a scary looking ghost. But, anyway, when she disappears I look back at the girl. And she's staring, horrified, _right where the ghost had been standing."_

Jeremy stares at the floor before standing and meeting my gaze.

"No, you're not overreacting. There is more going on here," Jeremy's voice is cold and controlled.

"So you think…" Nick stops before he finishes.

Reese sits up. "Wait. What _are_ you saying?"

I look each in the eye and then turn to stare into Jeremy's eyes. They are comforting. I say to him, "I think that girl is a necromancer. And she has no clue what to do about it."

**(Chloe's POV)**

We're driving home and I am freaking out in the front seat next to Aunt Lauren. Tori is in the back, listening to her ipod.

Tori's been very distant in the past couple days. It's like she's reverted back to how she was in the Lyle House. Except more indifferent. At least then she was angry. Now, she's like a zombie.

I shiver at the thought. _No, not like a zombie. Never like that_.

Diane was there. At the show. She's back. As soon as I told Tori and Aunt Lauren, we left. We couldn't get out of there fast enough. And fear is trying very hard to take hold of me.

_You can banish her, Chloe. You've done it before, just do it again._ But when? When will she show up? When will she strike? Will I have time to protect myself. Protect the others? What is she going to do?

I breathe harshly and Aunt Lauren jabbers at me, trying to calm me down, but it's not working.

"Just get us home!" I shout at her before curling into a ball. Anger surges through me and it's a welcome change from the fear. "This was a waste of time! Jaime Vegas isn't a necromancer. Ghost were popping up every few minutes and she didn't notice one of them. They weren't easy to ignore either. One had a head that was practically hanging off its shoulders and another was burned all over."

Aunt Lauren is silent and the faint sound of music coming from Tori's blasting headphones is the only sound in the car. "She's a fraud." My voice gives away my disappointment and suddenly I feel like crying.

Aunt Lauren's hand rests on my back briefly, but I tense under it. I don't want comfort right now. I want answers. My one hope, Jaime Vegas, of a necromancer mentor is a fraud. And the reason for needing a mentor showed up during her show. Diane is back.

What the hell am I going to do?

I curl into a tighter ball, the seat belt straining around me, and I wish Derek was next to me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry if I'm totally messing up the description of Danville. I google mapped Virginia and thought Danville was a good candidate for where they are living/hiding.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**(Jaime's POV)**

I am sitting in my hotel room, which I've just booked for another couple of days, by myself. Jeremy is showering in the bathroom and Reese and Nick are out getting breakfast. I am trying to do some research and figure out who the girl is.

I decided to start with the mom, since it's the only name I have to work with. Dr. Lauren Frend.

She works at County General Hospital in Danville, Virginia. Residence is at a farm a half-hour out of town. The estate is big enough to rival Stonehaven. So she's not poor if she can afford living there. I can only find a short history on her; where she received her degree and a few small details, like past hospitals she worked in before moving to Danville a few months ago. It's the kind of paper trail that was made up in a hurry.

I doubt Lauren Frend is her real name. I'm sure she's a real doctor, you can't fake that kind of knowledge. But the colleges listed are probably fakes. She's got to be hiding if this is all I'm finding on her. She hasn't had time to create a convincing background yet.

I have no clue what the names of the kids are and that bothers me. There was no mention of Lauren Frend having a daughter anywhere I could find. I continue to search, but I think I've found all that I can. Frustration is just starting to kick in when I hear Nick and Reese outside.

They come in, bursting through the door so it smacks against the wall and makes me jump. Reese and his Aussie, golden looks is carefree and laughing. Nick, his darker looks, is gesturing wildly while telling a story and Reese counters his remarks with comments of his own. Reese is carrying a bag of food and four coffees in a holder. He has the holder in his right hand. The one with the last two fingers partly gone. He handles the holder well, though. Not that I thought he couldn't. No. Reese is very capable and the partial loss of two fingers makes almost no difference anymore, other than a few awkward glances from strangers.

"Hey, Jaime. Want some breakfast?" Nick jumps on the bed and folds his arms behind his head, smiling at me. He's got a sexy, smoking hot look on his face that at one point, would've made me blush. "We got you something special." He wiggles his eyebrows, making me laugh. I throw a pillow at his too suggestive look.

"What?" I ask.

Reese sets the food and coffee down next to my laptop and grabs the chair next to me with a gentlemanly smile. "Pancakes and sausage from McDonalds," he says, sitting down.

I wrinkle my nose. "That doesn't sound very healthy."

Reese grins. "Yep. That's why we got you…" he pulls out a small bowl with a lid over the top. "Oatmeal! Very nutritional." He sets it in front of me with a flourish.

"Bon appetite," Nick says, kissing his fingers and sitting up on the bed.

"Mmm." I lick my lips before grabbing the spoons he hands me and take a bite. Delicious and nutritious.

Jeremy walks out of the bathroom a few minutes later, towel drying his hair as Nick sits next to me at the small table and I begin to tell them what I've found.

"I have which hospital she works at: Danville County General Hospital. I have a work number and a cell number, though no home phone number with which to contact her. I have her address though." I riffle through some of the papers spread out around me as the sounds of hungry werewolves eating fill the room. Jeremy is sitting next to me on my other side, an arm around my shoulders, and he grabs a few papers to study.

"I think this is a fake name. I can only find a minimal history with the basics: college, past places of work, a past residence, a few small things like that. All the obvious signs that this is a very short paper trail made up in a hurry for a new identity." I hand Jeremy the address and a picture of the farmhouse.

I look up at Nick and Reese, still stuffing their faces. Jeremy continues to study a profile I made up for Lauren Frend. A picture, name, age, and other basic information are on it.

"If she's hiding, and she hiding her kid, too, this could be tricky dealing with her."

Jeremy nods. "There's no mention of a daughter on here." He holds up the profile.

I shake my head and take another bite of steaming oatmeal. "I couldn't find a mention of one. I have no clue who the girl is or who the teens are. There are only a few people with the name Frend that live in Danville and they're either elderly or childless. I gave Paul a call and he's never seen any of the teens in his store before the day I came in. He said if they come back, he'll ask a few questions, but otherwise he doesn't know anything either." I'll owe Paul for that, but I'm not worried about it. He's a good guy.

"I looked into the high school registers and the local Recreational Center's public list of class registration. No kids with the last name Frend. Maybe I'm forgetting something, but I can't find Dr. Lauren Frend's daughter anywhere."

Jeremy nods and deliberates while we all eat.

Just as we're clearing up breakfast, Jeremy announces, "We'll call the doctor."

For a fraction of second I wonder who is sick. Then kick myself and remember _Dr. _Lauren Frend. I turn to look at him. He continues, still throwing away used napkins and plastic forks. "If she is the mother of the girl, then we need to talk to her first. Set up a meeting and talk with her, feel her out. See if we can gain a better read on the situation. I'll call the Council and see if anyone there recognizes her name. We need to know more."

I nod. "I thought about that, too. Paige should know, right?"

When Jeremy nods, I decide to share what I've been thinking about.

"Last night, she seemed really mad. Furious even. I could tell she wasn't falling for any of my 'Talking to Those Beyond The Veil' crap." Nick chuckles and Reese grins.

"You were _awesome_, Jaime. I've never been to a show like that. I thought a few times there, you _had_ to be talking to a ghost." Reese sounds like he really enjoyed the show.

Nick chips in. "Yeah, if Jeremy hadn't told me that you make that stuff up, I would've been convinced. Especially, you know," he makes a whirly gesture at me and smirks, "You _do_ actually see and talk to ghosts."

I grin. "Thanks. I'm glad I can still perform. The entire show I was pretty preoccupied. You didn't notice?"

Nick looks troubled for a second and Reese scowls. "No," they say in unison.

Oh. I suppose they'd rather have been clued into what was happening instead of fooled by my act. I shrug. "Sorry. I act for a living."

I narrow my eyes and focus. "But back to the girl. She _had _to have seen the ghosts popping up. And when I didn't react to them, she must have thought I couldn't see them, therefore I couldn't possibly be legit." I bring my hand up to my mouth, thinking. I follow my line of thinking, playing out what she must have been going through during the show. Seeing it from her perspective.

I go through the show mentally, and start talking aloud when I get to the part where the girl gets mad. "So she gets mad, angry that I'm conning all these people by using their grief as a tool. I'm sure Dr. Frend felt the same way…"

I think about the ghost, a scary woman. The ghost who glared at the girl. And suddenly I see things a little differently.

I sit up straighter and all the werewolves in the room perk up, sensing I have something important to say. Reese sets down his coffee and Nick leans back into his chair.

"You know, originally I thought she left because she was disgusted with me, but…maybe there was a different reason. Not just that they figured out I was conning everyone." I say with a wistful tone, not at all troubled that someone might feel this way about me. They wait and when I don't go on, Nick and Reese seem uncomfortable with what I said about myself. I smile at them. "Don't worry about it. I get that reaction a lot and I'm used to it."

Jeremy seems to be thinking ahead of me. "Didn't you say last night that a ghost popped up and that's when you realized she could see the ghosts?"

I nod. "Yes. Well, ghosts had been popping up the entire time, but this one was closer to the girl. Also, the ghost was focused directly on the girl, glaring at her. She didn't even glance my way before she disappeared."

"And I was just thinking that maybe the girl left because of the woman, not me. That ghost was…" I shiver. "She was _angry…_and she was glaring at the girl with a twisted smile and if you could have heard her laugh…" I shudder thinking about it. "Obviously, there is something between the two. Possibly she's haunting her? Maybe pestering her and the girl doesn't know how to get rid of her? I don't know.

"But I do know that after the girl saw the ghost, she was out of there before I had time to react."

Jeremy rubs a hand over his mouth. "Jaime, you said you have her work number and cell phone?"

I nod.

"Okay, give her a call. We want to talk to Doctor Frend as soon as possible. Since she's possibly not a fan and in fact thinks you're a very successful con-woman, you're going to have to go about this carefully. Try to get her to see you. Set up a meeting. A dinner or lunch. Don't mention me, or Nick and Reese. If you can get the meeting, we can watch from within the restaurant and listen in."

I nod, nervous now. "Okay."

I glance at my watch. Nine-thirty on a Sunday morning. I hope she's not at church. I dial her cell number and the werewolves in the room still as they listen.

"Dr. Frend," she answers. Her voice is soft and comforting and everything a doctor's voice should sound like.

"Hello. Um, I'm sorry to be disturbing you, I hope you weren't busy?" I try to put off saying my name, expecting an angry reaction.

"Oh, it's no trouble. How can I help you, Miss…"

I swallow. "My name is Jaime Vegas." I hear an intake of breath. "I'm very sorry, but I wanted to talk to you about—"she interrupts me before I can go on.

"How did you get this number?" The soft, coaxing voice is replaced with a hardened, angry version. "What do you want?"

I swallow and look up at Jeremy who nods encouragingly. Nick gives me a smile and takes my hand. I squeeze it and give him a grateful smile. "Last night you were at my show, in Richmond?" I wait but there's no response. I continue, "Um, well I couldn't help noticing a strange reaction from your daughter. I have a few questions about her if you don't mind." I hear an intake of breath, panicked and angry and I know she's going to hang up. "It's about the ghost she saw!" I blurt, desperate to keep her on the phone.

There's a pause and I can't hear anything on the other line. I decide to keep talking as long as there's no dial tone. "Um, maybe you'll feel better if you know I'm on the Council?" No response. Damn. Moving on. "Or maybe you don't know what that is…Uh, I noticed the reaction you two were having during the show, the skepticism." At that, I hear a derisive snort. Clearly, she still believes I'm a con. "Um, but there was a ghost that popped up about the time I was walking in your direction. I saw your daughter's reaction and guessed that she could see it. Since she was looking directly at the spot where the ghost was, and no one else was looking in that direction, I made the leap that she could see it, too."

I could hear her breathing now, panicked. "Dr. Frend, please. I just want to talk."

I cross my fingers and close my eyes hoping I haven't said the wrong thing.

Then she whispers.

"She said that ghosts were popping up every few minutes. That you didn't see any of them. She knew you were a fraud after the first few minutes of your show." Her voice is soft, hesitant and not at all trusting.

I let out a huge sigh of relief. "Oh, thank god. I mean, yes. I didn't react to them. I can't, you see. Most of the ghost I talk to during my shows have very few nice things to say to their loved ones who are still living. Often times, I have to pretend not to see them and give the families and friends good news instead of yelling at them for spending their inheritance money on a new Porsche." I know I'm rambling, but I can't stop.

Reese snorts a laugh and Nick elbows him, telling him to shut up.

"So, you see, I had to pretend I couldn't see the ghosts. But I do see them. I'm not a fraud." And here's the tricky part. If her daughter doesn't know she's a necromancer, if she was adopted or it skipped a generation and the parent died before explaining, then saying I'm a necromancer could go badly.

I take a deep breath and tell her. "I'm a necromancer. And I know you may not believe me or know what that is, but if your daughter can see ghosts, I may be able to help you and her."

I hold my breath, waiting for a reaction and stare at Jeremy's hand, now gripping my mine since Nick let go.

"How do I know I can trust you?"

Her voice startles me and I jump. Wow. Not the reaction I was expecting (her hanging up) but not surprising either. A very good question, too.

I look at Jeremy for help. How do I prove I just want to help?

Jeremy shrugs. _Don't look at me._

I glare at him as I answer, but he just gives an amused smile back and squeezes my hand.

"Well, I only want to help. If your daughter is scared or needs help, I can give it to her. I've been a Necromancer my whole life," I laugh, only a little nervously. "So, I know a few things about it. But, you don't have to make a decision right now. Can we meet?"

I listen to silence on the other end of the phone. "I don't know. I need to think. Can I call you back?"

And I know I've lost her. "Sure. Here's my number." And I give her my cell number, knowing I'll never get a call back from her.

**(An hour and a half later)**

My cell phone rings. I answer without checking the Caller ID.

"Hello, Jaime Vegas speaking."

I hand Jeremy a piece of paper with more information on Dr. Frend. Just because she won't cooperate doesn't mean we're letting the matter drop. Nick and Reese are out now, doing research.

"Yes, hello. This is Lauren Frend." Her voice is hesitant, almost reluctant, and still just as wary as when she hung up an hour and a half ago.

My heart jumps in my throat and I grasp Jeremy's arm. He looks up at me sharply and his head tilts to the side, listening now.

"Hi, Lauren. Did you come to a decision?" I ask nervously, afraid I'm going to frighten her. _Please say you'll meet me. Please say you'll meet me_. I cross my fingers.

"Yes. I think it's safe enough to meet with you. How about we have lunch? Today?"

Lunch! Today! I'm about to say yes, when Jeremy's look makes me hesitate.

What if she has some other reason for wanting to meet with me? There does seem to be more to this than meets the eye. What if I can't trust her?

But what choice do I have if we want to learn more?

I shrug at Jeremy in a _what can you do _way.

"Okay, lunch sounds great. Where? When?" I try not to sound too eager.

Her voice is brisk and businesslike. "How about at Ginger's? Do you know the place? It's a couple blocks from the Richmond Courthouse. We can meet at 12:30, have lunch. Just the two of us."

Oh. I can't help but smile when she says that last part, but I don't blame her for specifying that it be just us two. Not that her saying it will make Jeremy stay behind.

So we're meeting here in Richmond, eh?, not Danville. Well, she probably doesn't realize I know that she lives on a farm outside of Danville. She probably thinks I assume she's from Richmond because she came to my show. Well, I won't tell her differently.

I agree to meet her and hang up.

I look at Jeremy. "I'll send Reese and Nick to scope out Ginger's," he says and fishes in his pocket for his phone.

While he's on the phone, I keep doing research. We have just over an hour before we meet with Lauren. I realize she must have either stayed overnight in Richmond or already left if she'll be here by 12:30. I don't know which theory to bet on.

**(Lauren's POV)**

We have about 45 more minutes of driving before we reach Richmond.

When Jaime called this morning, at first I thought she was a patient contacting me. But when she introduced herself I thought she was just going to try and sell me some story about being able to contact my dead mother for me. Then she started asking about Chloe, thinking she was my daughter. Of course, I didn't correct her, _let her think Chloe's my daughter,_ I thought. I was sure Jaime Vega was with the Edison Group then and it was a trap to get Chloe. I remember briefly the fear that had paralyzed me, making me incapable of hanging up the phone, forcing me to listen to Jaime Vegas a few seconds longer.

I remembered as Jaime kept talking what Kit said about the Council. She didn't linger on that subject, but she claims to be on it. I've heard about the Council and have done my own research on it the past couple of weeks since Kit heard the rumor of a werewolf being on it. I don't know for sure that the Council wouldn't condone a group like the Edison Group, but I have to believe that they'd help.

Also, wasn't it almost proof she wasn't with the Edison Group if she thinks I'm Chloe's mother? Everyone in that group knows me, knows I'm Chloe's aunt. Doesn't make sense for her to think otherwise if she was part of the Edison Group. Unless it's a trick to get me to believe she's innocent.

After a quick discussion with Kit after Jaime's phone call, we left. We both agreed that we need to know more and a meeting would be okay if I had back up. So he's coming with me to make sure I'm safe in case this _is_ a trap. We'll get there early. I'll drop Kit off a few blocks from the diner and he'll walk there. I'll drive around until I see him go in and then follow.

I decided not to call Jaime back until I was half way to Richmond. I don't want her to know I'm not living in Richmond in case she's really after Chloe.

Kit goes over behavior with me on the way. Where I should sit, what I should say, what I should ask. I try to listen, but I'm too nervous, gripping the steering wheel tight and making my knuckles whiten. Kit offered to drive before, but I refused. I should have let him drive.

When we get to Richmond and I pull over a couple blocks from the diner, Kit doesn't immediately get out. I turn to look at him.

Kit leans forward and grips my shoulders in a tight grip. "You'll do fine, Lauren. And I won't let her or anyone else hurt you." He gives me a kiss on the forehead, startling me.

I'm sure my eyes are as round as saucers as he gets out and starts walking toward the diner with his hands in his pockets.

_Oh, god. Don't mess this up, Lauren_, I tell myself and begin to circle the diner, waiting for Kit to enter.


	7. Chapter 7

**I know everyone is itching to see what comes of the meeting with Jaime and Lauren, but this chapter had to be written. Lauren and Jaime will be in the next chapter. I have to give you **_**something **_**to look forward to, don't I? Don't be too mad. You'll get to read about the meeting soon enough. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**(Chloe's POV: during Jaime's call to Lauren)**

"Hey, Derek!" I whisper in his ear as he sleeps in his bedroom. I crawl on the bed and lay next to him, trying to keep from giggling as he mumbles in his sleeping and grips his pillow tighter. He's lying on his stomach so I have his very nice back to play with. My hair is still damp from my shower so I lean over him and let the ends trail over his skin. When he moans I stop so I don't start giggling. I wait a few minutes until I'm sure he's fully asleep.

I draw circles on his back, lightly pressing my nails into his skin. Goosebumps erupt where ever I touch him and he gives a shiver but continues to sleep. I giggle noiselessly and lean over him to nuzzle his neck. Then I nip his earlobe and suck on it, humming low in my throat and keeping up my gentle scratching on his back.

Derek moans in his sleep and flips over. I barely avoid being crushed by the rolling werewolf. It's a good thing his bed is so big; I have room to roll out of his way without dumping myself onto the floor.

Derek's room is bigger than anyone else's, mainly because he has the biggest bed. Kit insisted that he get a bed he can comfortably sleep in (for once) and since a king size (the only size Derek's feet wouldn't hang of the end of) wouldn't fit in any other room besides the master bedroom, Derek got it. Along with the decked out bathroom the previous owner splurged on. And a huge window with an amazing view of the estate.

Sunshine lights up the room with a warm radiance that makes me feel all fuzzy with happiness. I'm in a very good mood. I probably shouldn't be after last night, but when I got home, Derek was here. And he was here _for me_. He took one look at me when I stumbled through the door and knew what had happened.

He'd caught me up in a hug that crushed me and whispered, "It doesn't matter. It was a long shot from the beginning. We can just keep doing what we've been doing and continue on. And we found those books. They'll help a lot." When I responded with a sob, he picked me up and carried me up to my room. Kit and Lauren didn't protest at all and I'm just now realizing that. _I wonder why?_

And then Derek and I talked long into the night; about necromancers and werewolves.

About _not_ necromancers and _not_ werewolves.

About Diane and what to do about her. We talked about Diane until I no longer worried about her.

We talked about everything important and everything trivial.

About Derek's dream job in Physics.

About my dream job creating movies.

About Simon and Tori.

About Simon and Tori sharing a dad.

About my favorite movie.

About his favorite book.

About my favorite cartoon.

About the school we liked best out of all the ones we've had to move to and from.

About Aunt Lauren hating Derek.

About a world in which Aunt Lauren loved Derek (this was a very fun fantasy which we entertained for about thirty seconds before getting real).

And when I started to yawn more than speak, Derek left and went to his room. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow and I woke up with a smile on my face and Derek on my mind. I'd dreamt about him.

I wonder now what he's dreaming about, so sound asleep we isn't waking up with all my kisses.

I am having fun taking my time waking him up. It's almost ten and Aunt Lauren got a phone call that woke me up and she's still on the phone. I want to wake Derek up before she gets off so we can sneak out and go for a morning walk. But I'm in no hurry, really.

I assess how deeply Derek is asleep, then swing a leg over his waist so I'm now straddling him. I lean forward, running my hands up his washboard tummy, loving the ridges of muscles. I kiss his chest, the hair there not too thick, but soft, springy even. I run my fingers through it. My lips trace a path from his chest down his stomach, nipping and sucking. When I reach his bellybutton I flick my tongue into the dip.

Derek's breathing hitches and a growl makes me look up to see if he's awake. But he's still asleep, an arm thrown over his face now and the other still clutching his pillow. I can see his mouth hanging open under his arm and I smile. He's so cute when he's asleep.

I continue to run my hands over him, rubbing and brushing over sensitive spots on his sides, over each inch of exposed skin. It helps that he only wears boxers to bed. I trail kisses over his arms and chest and abdomen. Then I make my way back up his neck. I love the taste of his skin and go back for a second helping of Derek Delight—my favorite breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

When I reach the base of his neck, I hear him suck in his breath quickly, cutting off the purring he'd been making. I feel his body tense for a second and then relax, but I know he's awake now. I smile into his neck and make a humming sound in my throat before continuing with my tasting of Derek.

"Good morning," Derek growls, his voice quiet and rough with sleep. The sound sends shivers through my body. This time _I_ purr.

Derek's arms move to go around me, but I sit up, knocking his hands away. I grab his wrists and pin them to the bed while he's still surprised. I look down to see his eyes still half way closed and sleepy. But his lips twitch in a smile.

"Whatareyoudoing?" He sleepily mumbles, not resisting me. I smile down at him wickedly.

"Having breakfast." My answer surprises him, because his eyebrows arch. His eyes stay at half-mast though and his arms stay pinned under mine.

"And saying thank you," I add. I squeeze his wrists and then move my hands to entwine our fingers together. "For last night."

I lean back down to kiss his chin and then along his jaw. My mouth reaches his ear and I suck it and nibble. His breathing hitches and he growls. I remove move hands from his, sliding them up over his biceps, then over his shoulders and down his chest. I tickle his chest hair, gaining a louder growl from him.

I smile and lift my head to kiss him. A real kiss. My mouth meets his and it feels like relief. _Ahhh. This is what I wanted. Thank you for finally waking up._ His tongue tangles with mine and our breath mingles. One of his hands wraps in my still damp hair, grabbing it in a bunch at my neck. His other hand lands squarely on my back, pressing me into his body

After a moment…or two or three, his hands slide down my sides to grip my hips. I trail my hands back down over his chest, down his abdomen, fitting between our two bodies. My fingers brush the hair that trails below his bellybutton…

"Chloe…" Derek whispers against my lips, tensing. I lift my head and lift one eyebrow at him.

He smirks at me. "Are you sure you want to go there?"

He shifts under me and suddenly my bottom isn't on his thighs, but further up. I can feel his hardness, pressing against me _there._ I blush.

I look at him, unsure. Derek smirks. "I thought not."

Suddenly he sits up and gives me sound, swift kiss. "Good morning," he says again and lifts me off his lap.

I'm still blushing furiously and am disgruntled from the sudden dislodging, but I try to calm my racing heart. "Good morning," I answer breathily. "Again."

He smiles at me, his eyes full of amusement.

"Derek, are you laughing at me?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

Derek's smile drops away quickly and his eyes go tender, looking into mine sincerely. He leans forward to give me another kiss. This kiss is soft and gentle and thorough enough to get my blood heated again. Derek pulls back and I feel him smile against my lips.

"Yes, I am," he says and gets up to grab some clothes from his dresser.

It takes me a moment to understand that he was answering my question because I sit in a daze on his bed. He _was_ laughing at me! And by the time I've realized this, he has already gathered his clothes and started the shower in his bathroom.

I walk over to the bathroom and bang on the door. I hear Derek laugh through the door and instead of yelling at him, I feel myself start to laugh, too.

I just shake my head and fall back onto the bed and wait for him to finish showering. _Today, _declare in my head,_ will be a good day._

As I stare at the ceiling, I remember some of the conversation from last night with Derek.

"Here. I have a good one for you," Derek says, referring to our best/worst school subject. Then he's rolling onto his back and taking my pillow with him, distracting me.

"Hey!" I say and make a grab for my pillow, but he rolls off the bed so he's kneeling on the floor on the opposite side of my bed.

He smiles and holds the pillow over his head, taunting me to come get it. I sit back and fold my arms under my head, looking to all the world like I'm comfortable without it. I raise an eyebrow at him. _I'm not getting anything from you. You're gonna have to give it to me._

"So, you said you had a story?" I ask nonchalantly.

Derek smirks. He throws the pillow at me and a waft of air blows my hair back when it hits me. I laugh and when I move the pillow back behind my head, he's back on the bed, sitting cross-legged next to my feet. He picks one up and starts playing with it. I wiggle my toes and he looks up at me.

"Okay. What were we talking about? Schools?" He thinks a moment, running his thumb up the instep of my foot. It feels good.

"Oh, right. Worst mascot ever, huh? I'll win with this one," he warns me.

"Oh, I doubt it. How can you beat…_the Willow High Trees_? Our mascot was a _tree."_ I put my hands up to cover my eyes, embarrassed for my old school. "I mean, can you imagine it? There was a kid who, for every school event, walked around in a brown cylinder that was supposed to be a tree trunk, with green tissue paper stapled at the top for leaves." I groan. "It was bad."

Derek only smiles. I sit up, intrigued. _What's worse than a tree? _

"What if I said that I once went to a school in a town called Dillon? And we were the Does?"

I furrow my eyebrows, thinking. "So?" A deer for a mascot isn't _that _bad. Kinda wimpy, but not awful.

He smirks. "The Dillon Does? Can you guess what everyone called us instead of Dil_lon_ Does?"

Then I get it. My face flushes and I cover my face as his laugh shakes the bed.

I spread my fingers so I can look at him. "Okay. You win." He nods.

"I thought I would."

Derek doesn't stop rubbing my feet and I slowly relax again, forgetting my embarrassment. "So…A tree, huh?" he asks, breaking the silence and I laugh before going into a story about the Senior Prank and what they did to the Tree that year of high school.

And then I'm back to the present. I laugh now, thinking about Derek and the Dillon Does. And just as I do, Simon walks by in the hallway and gently pushes the door open a crack. He pokes his head in and smiles when he sees me.

"Hey. I thought I heard you," he says. He looks around the room, taking me in on the rumpled bed and the closed bathroom door with the sounds of a shower running. I sit up as he saunters into the room.

"I just came in to wake Derek up." I lift my chin, daring him to think anything else.

Simon smiles and raises his arms. "Okay, okay, I believe you. I didn't say a thing." His eyes twinkle with humor. He goes to the window and looks out. "Damn. I wanted this room so bad. The view is ridiculous."

I sigh and have to agree. "Yep. I think Derek really enjoys having a bed he can actually fit in, though." My tone is slightly reproving. Simon can't blame Derek for finally getting a bed he fits and getting this room by default. Although, Tori does.

He gives me a grudging smile. "Yeah, I'm sure he's enjoying it, alright." He wiggles his eyebrows at me sitting on the rumpled bed suggestively. Before I can protest, he moves on, more serious. "You know, he never once complained about his bed, but it was always kind of painful: watching him hang off the end of his own bed."

He makes a face and I laugh.

I stand up. "Come on. He'll be out soon. Let's go get some breakfast before Derek gets down there and eats all of it."

"What did Aunt Lauren make?" I ask as we leave the room. She always makes breakfast on Sundays for anyone who wants it.

Simon looks at me, confused. "Didn't you hear her yell upstairs? Dad and Lauren left about," he checks his watch, "ten minutes ago."

Oh, well. I guess I was distracted. "Where did they go?"

He shrugs and looks at me, suddenly cautious. "Richmond, I guess," he answers, sort of reluctantly. I suppose he doesn't want to remind me of last night and the Jaime Vegas fiasco. I grimace.

Simon doesn't look at me as he says the next thing. "So, are you all right? You were pretty upset last night and I didn't want to interrupt whatever you and Derek…" He doesn't finish. I give him a look, knowing what he thought we were doing last night.

"You could have interrupted," I say in a hard voice. Like Derek and I would have had sex after everyone watched us go upstairs together! Like we'd have sex _at all_. Right now, neither of us is ready for that, thank you very much.

Simon smiles, a strangely bashful expression, and shrugs. "Whatever, you say."

"I say." Just making sure the point is clear. Then move on.

"And thanks. I'm all right. Derek and I talked a lot last night. He put things into perspective, made me realize it was only our first shot at finding a necromancer." I shrug and bump him with my shoulder. "We can try again."

Simon nods.

I search for another topic. "So, um, did they say why they left?"

Simon looks confused and then remembers Kit and Aunt Lauren left to go to Richmond.

"No, they didn't really give a reason, but they both seemed real edgy." He doesn't look all that concerned about it though and throws an arm around my shoulders. "Hey," he whispers playfully, "let's go see what Tori's up to!"

I stare at him, in shock. "What?" He's not avoiding her? And, jeez. We're jumping subjects like leap frog this morning. First it's Derek, then last night, then Kit and Lauren, now Tori—the last thing I expected to talk with Simon about.

He stops and drops his arm from my shoulders with a sigh, so I turn to face him. He shakes his head, not meeting my eyes.

_I'm worried about him_, I realize. I've been mostly worried about Tori, especially after her bad reaction to the news. I can't blame her—finding out that she had two dads, one fake and one unwanted, and a half brother she once had a crush on, is not easy.

I had talked a bit with Simon about it, but he'd always seemed fine, if a little disgruntled. I thought he'd been handling it fine.

Another sigh from Simon and a glance at Derek's door, down the hallway. "Listen, I know what you're gonna say," he looks back and meets my eyes briefly. "Hell, you've already said it, more than once. That I need to talk with Tori." He looks down and scuffs his shoe, his hands shoved into his pockets. "But it's not an easy thing to talk about and it's not like she makes it any easier."

I fold my arms. I wasn't going to say anything like that. But he's right. He does need to talk to Tori. He just hasn't yet, always coming up with an excuse. "So…what? You want to talk with her now?" I'm confused. I thought this about going to see what Tori's up to. "Why do you suddenly have an interest with Tori's activities if you guys are avoiding this 'talk'? What are you up to?" I ask.

He rubs his neck. "Well, she's been acting weirder than usual. I just wanted…" Of course. Simon is not Derek, and no matter how much he dislikes a person, if he's living with her and he's related to her, he's gonna care about her. But he looks uncomfortable, so I decide to make this easier. He cares about Tori, and wants to help.

"Yeah, I've noticed her behavior the last couple days. And last night in the car, she didn't say a word. Going to the show, or coming back. Not even a reaction that D-Diane showed up." I chew my lip and curse my stupid stutter, but otherwise try to ignore it.

We both continue downstairs in silence, thinking about what to do with Tori.

I grab a bowl and pour some cereal just as Derek lopes down the stairs. I hold the box out to him. "Kit and Aunt Lauren are gone. Gotta fend for ourselves this morning."

Derek nods and grabs the box of cereal from me. Simon hops up onto the counter to wait for his toast to pop up. I grab the milk and a spoon and head for the table just as Simon says, "Hey, Tori."

I turn to see her standing, dressed and ready for the day, in the doorway of the room. She doesn't acknowledge Simon but instead walks past us all and drops a pile of papers next to me as she passes.

She pauses just behind me so I can't see her face and says, "Thought you could try one of those." And she's gone, and I hear the front door slam.

I look at the papers. They're six pages of spiritualists, mediums, and others of that kind of profession. They're names and a brief description next to each one. Wow.

I look up to see Simon worriedly looking out the window at Tori's disappearing figure. Then he hops down from the counter, taking his toast with him. "I'm going after her." He looks like he's come to a decision and he's sticking to it.

Derek starts to protest, but Simon raises a hand. "No, Derek. I'm going after her." Then he looks at me so he knows I'm listening. "Tori and I need to talk." Then he's gone, too, and it's just Derek and I.

I look at him. Derek is glaring at me.

"What?" I ask. "I didn't tell him to go after his half-sister. He did it on his own." I can't keep the happiness out of my voice. _Finally_, I think. I pour some milk on my cocoa puffs. "But I do think he's doing the right thing."

I wait a moment and finally hear Derek give a frustrated growl and sit down beside me. "If he comes back with a charred head, I'm blaming you."

I smile down at my cereal and take a bite. At least he's not going after Simon and throwing him over his shoulder and tying him to a chair.

"So…What do you want to do today?" I ask as we are both putting our dishes in the dishwasher.

Derek shrugs. Then after a moment he says, "I wanted to look at some colleges online." He looks at me, judging my reaction.

My face breaks into a grin. "Sounds great."

**(Tori's POV)**

I'm about halfway down the long driveway in front of the farm house when I hear running footsteps behind me. I tense, knowing that whoever it is, I don't care, I just want to be left alone.

"Hey! Wait up." I cringe when I hear Simon's voice. _Oh, God. Anyone but him, please._ I ignore him and instead speed up.

He picks up speed, too, so I know he's not going to leave me alone. Fear suddenly engulfs me, just as it has been sporadically any time I got near someone for the last few days. I don't want to hurt anyone anymore. If I lose control, it's not going to just be a picture exploding. I know it. Someone's going to get hurt. And if someone touches me, I'm going to go thermonuclear on their ass.

When Simon's hand drops onto my shoulder, it's my worst nightmare come true. In desperation I grab it and twist it, locking his wrist, then his elbow in one of the self-defense moves Kit showed me and Chloe. Maybe if I get him off me quickly, nothing bad will happen.

I'm just bringing my other arm around to shove him when Simon's arm, the one I'm not holding, swings up and slams into my chest, effectively winding me. The blow was so forceful I know he was expecting me to attack him and already had his countermove picked out. I stumble back, dropping his hand in the process.

Simon doesn't say anything and when I move to attack him again his lips move imperceptibly and his fingers wiggle. Suddenly, I'm flying back from his knockback spell. I lose consciousness when I hit a tree.

I come to a few seconds later. My mouth is opening and closing but no air is getting to my lungs. I imagine a fish out of water and guess I look like something similar. Anger rolls through me. I. Just. Want. To. Be. Alone.

But it doesn't look like I'm going to get my wish.

Simon leans down and picks me up while I'm still not-gasping for air.

"Tori, I know you want to talk to me just about as much as I want to talk to you. But I think some things need to be said. And if you're not going to cooperate, then I'll just have to make you listen to me." He sounds pissed.

He walks into the forest still carrying me. Suddenly, I wonder why we're not both blowing up. Why isn't my magic erupting? It's been a constant pounding on my control for the last week and all of a sudden it's quiet. Tamed.

What the hell? It's such a shocking revelation that I forget to struggle against Simon once I get my breathing back under control. And I forget to run away after he sets me down.

I look up at him after he drops me unceremoniously onto the uneven ground of a clearing. "Well? What do you want to say that's so important to me?" I snap at him.

He looks stunned for a moment before looking irritated again. He runs his hand through his hair and begins to pace in front of me.

I cross my legs and wait. I'm not so angry anymore. In fact, the relief of my magic somehow being tamed is heady. Like when you have a stomach bug. You've been feeling nauseated all day and when you finally throw up, it's such a _relief._ I feel like I finally threw up. I feel better.

Talking to Simon still doesn't sound pleasant because I can guess the topic, but it's no longer the torture it would've been a few minutes ago.

Simon keeps pacing. After a few laps of the clearing, I realize I'm going to have to start this if I want it to end any time soon.

"Simon." He stops and glares at me. "Hey, _you_ brought _me_ here to talk. And since it looks like you're going to be thinking all day about what you want to say to me, how about I start?" I raise my eyebrows at him.

His mouth drops open for second before he gets his expression under control and he glares at me again. He points an accusing finger at me. "You've been a bitch." He begins pacing again, but talking now. "Actually, you've been a bitch since I met you. You're spoiled and rotten and a _bitch_. Even to Chloe, who _never_ deserves any of the crap you give her."

I sigh and sit back, getting ready for a rant. I yawn. _Sorry, Simon, but you're not telling me anything I don't already know._

He stops when he sees my yawn and narrows his eyes at me. "Sorry, am I boring you?" he asks sarcastically.

I shake my head. "Nope. Please continue. But I have to warn you." I lean forward. "You're not telling me anything I don't already know about myself."

This makes him pause. He frowns and looks confused. Then he gets his gumption back and continues to pace. "So you're a bitch that doesn't care who she hurts. Great. But recently you've been…I don't know." He throws his hands up in a frustrated gesture. "You've been out of control despite yoga and tea and all the other shit that's supposed to be calming. I don't know what's up with you."

He stops suddenly, looking more frustrated than I've ever seen him. I sigh.

"I know. I've been scaring myself a lot recently." _Why am I telling him this?_

"What?" He skids to a stop and looks down at me.

Oh, boy. I don't want to get into this right now. "Simon, you didn't come out here to talk to me about my unpredictable, chaotic, and frankly scary powers." I pause so he can process that. "You want to talk about the fact that we're…_related._" I grimace and shift uncomfortably.

Simon makes a less than pleased face and nods. "Uh, right."

I nod back. "So, what do you want to say?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. I mean when I found out, I can't say I was thrilled." _Yeah, me neither._ "But you completely over reacted."

I bristle. "Well, I wasn't exactly getting the same news as you, was I?"

Irritation crosses Simon's face. "Uh, yeah you did."

I cross my arms and lift my chin. "Really? Let me guess what Kit said to you." I clear my throat and close my eyes, channeling Kit. "_Simon, this is hard to say, but…Tori is your half sister. No, no. It's true, really. Her mother stole some sperm from me and I guess Tori was the result. So… now you have a sister._"

I open my eyes to see Simon trying not to laugh as he stands over me. It surprises me because I wasn't expecting that reaction. Anger was a more predictable response.

Simon rubs a hand across his mouth to erase his smile. "Uh, no actually. He didn't quite say those words. Not word for word, anyway."

I give him a look that says just how much I appreciate his answer. "Whatever. That's not the point, Dumbass. The point is the news you got was that my bitch mother stole some sperm from your dad and as a result you have a half sister. The worst of it was that the irritating bitch you'd like nothing better than to get rid of is half related to you and it isn't going to be as easy to drop her." I look away and pick at some grass under my foot. My chest is tight, remembering how I felt that day. "You know what news I got? It was a little different." My voice is low and menacing.

Simon's quiet so I look up to see his face a few feet from mine, now on my level as he sits across from me. He looks wary. I look down again.

I answer when he doesn't respond. I can't keep the bitterness and anger out of my voice. "Well, _I_ got the news that my dad—the man I trusted and loved my entire life-isn't my dad. I found out that maybe the reason my dad didn't help me the _one_ time I called him and asked for help, might have been because he never really loved me. Never really loved me because I'm not actually his. Ifound out just how fucking psychotic my mother _really _is. I found out that I was conceived in a _lab, _probably in a Petri dish."

I sniff, feeling tears gathering. "I found at that the man who is my _biological father,_" I spit the words and can't stop talking, my voice rising with each word, "didn't know about me, but had heard a fucking rumor. But he never knew for sure 'otherwise, I would have found you, Tori.'" I mimic what Kit said, my tone bitter.

I feel tears stream down my face, but I ignore them and look into Simon's now horrified eyes and continue. "I found out that my _real father_ was part of the Edison group, too. You can imagine how ecstatic I was to know that both my parents were part of an experiment in which I was the subject. Oh, _and_ he's a sorcerer, so I'm not really a witch. I'm a freak. Half sorcerer, half witch." I laugh bitterly and am suddenly annoyed with myself, but I can't seem to stop talking. My voice hardens as I continue.

"I found out that my _real father_ was one of the guys that realized Project Genesis was wrong and he took his son and got out. I found out that because he didn't know about me, I was stuck with an abusive mother my entire life instead of having at least one loving parent." I wipe the stupid tears away and look at the ground.

"I found out that the _stupid boy_ I liked, just a few months ago, is my _brother." _I end my rant in a whisper and can't look at Simon.

There's silence and it lasts for a while. Birds and other animals far away make the only noise. I don't know how long we're like this, silent and not talking. Minutes or hours. I don't care anymore.

And still, the magic stays tamed. So I can't get really and truly worked up, especially after spilling my guts to Simon, I feel…well, gutted. I also feel relief. Seems today is just one relief after another.

I look up at Simon after a while. He's staring at a tree to his left, his arms wrapped around his legs. I sniff.

"So, do you have anything to add to this discussion, or are we done?"

He shakes his head and I stand up. I offer him a hand up and after a moment's hesitation, he takes it.

We stand there awkwardly and Simon runs his hands through his hair again. "Listen, Tori, I…I never really thought about all that from your point of view. I guess I was too stunned by my own side of it that I couldn't get past it to see your side more clearly."

I look at the ground and scuff my shoe against a clump of grass. "Yeah, well. I don't blame you. It's not a side that's pleasant to see from."

I turn and start walking back toward the road. Simon follows after a second. "Where are you going?" he asks.

I shrug. "Away. I wanted to be alone, earlier." I don't anymore, but I don't say that. I stop and turn to him. "Actually, I think I owe you my thanks."

Simon stops looking surprised. "For what? Pulling a Derek and hauling you into the middle of the forest?"

I laugh and the sound surprises both of us. I look down, embarrassed. "Um, kind of. I've been feeling really out of control lately." I look back up at him to see a concerned look on Simon's face. "Especially after the other day when I…you know in the parking lot?" He nods and I swallow.

"Well, after that, it was like there's been this burning feeling in me…" and I explain everything as we walk through the forest. The Gas Station Breakdown. The no-touching-because-I'm-going-to-explode thing. The obsessiveness towards Chloe's necromancer research. Simon listens and after a while, he puts his hand on my shoulder. I stop and look at him.

"And you don't feel like that anymore," he asks. I nod, wide eyed.

"Tori, you don't have to do this alone." He looks so concerned and sincere I feel my throat tighten. I feel like a completely different person without the magic trying to burst out of me at any sign of weakness.

I nod and Simon drops his hand. He turns and we continue on, me talking and talking like I've never talked to a person before. And for the first time, I feel okay. I feel like I can handle this.


	8. Chapter 8

**The moment you've all been waiting for…The Meet. _Almost_. I'm getting there, guys. Just be patient.**

**I'm not going to do any more Disclaimers. I think the first 7 were enough to get the point across that I DO NOT OWN DARKEST POWERS OR WOMEN/OTHERWORLD.**

**(Lauren's POV)**

A bell jingles as I open the door to Ginger's Diner. I look around the small diner and see that it is less busy than I thought it would be. A family of four is sitting in one of the booths, a group of three women chat loudly near the front door and two lone men sit at the counter on barstools. No sign of the sultry redhead, Jaime Vegas.

Kit is at one of the booths in the back corner of the diner where he'll have a view of everyone in the room. He's already ordered and sits eating an omelet and reading the daily newspaper. I just barely have time to wonder where he got the paper before a teenage waitress is asking me if I'd like a table.

I nod and begin to follow her to a table next to the family of four. I stop, remembering what Kit said about getting a seat so that I can see the entire room.

"Excuse me, but could I sit here?" I point to a table that's in the corner of the room, diagonal from the corner Kit's in. The waitress shrugs.

"Sure. I'm the only one working, so sits where ever."

I sit and tell her I'm expecting someone else. She nods and says she'll come back for my order when my guest arrives.

And then I wait. I can only sit still for five minutes before I check my watch. 12:15. Fifteen minutes before she's supposed to arrive.

_Oh, why did we come so early? Now I have to sit and worry until she gets here._

A man and a woman walk in and the bell above the door rings. I jump and then laugh when I see neither is Jaime Vegas. _Don't be so jumpy. You can do this. Kit is here and he's great back up._

But how great is one sorcerer against an entire squad of Edison Group enforcers waiting to ambush us? Who is the woman that I'm supposed to be meeting? Is she one of them? Or is she someone else who is interested in Chloe because she found out about the modifications? Does she want to take advantage of her? What is her motive? Is she a fraud?

Suddenly, the thought of _Jaime Vegas_ being anything other than a pretty face seems doubtful. Just another actress who couldn't make it in Hollywood and had to resort to cheap theatrics. She's a con artist. Nothing more. She probably thinks she can get me to pay her big bucks to explore Chloe's potential at 'Seeing into the Beyond.' Or something equally ridiculous.

I sit back and relax. I can do this.

**(Jaime's POV)**

"Yes, thank you, Elena." Jeremy snaps his phone shut and turns to look at me as I drive to the diner. "She's going to talk to Paige and see if she knows anything about Dr. Lauren Frend. Paige and Savannah can do some research with the materials and resources available to them at their office and if nothing shows up, Lucas can do some digging of his own."

I nod, tense and nervous about the meeting.

Jeremy grabs my knee and squeezes it reassuringly. "Don't worry. We'll handle this and then we can go home." I nod again but think_ I don't think it's going to be that easy_.

Jeremy gestures to the sidewalk a few block from the diner. "Here. Let me out here and I'll walk to the diner. Drive around until you see me go in, then park and come in yourself. Reese and Nick have been there for awhile now. Don't look at us when you come in. Just go straight to a table or if Dr. Frend is already there, go to her." I nod.

"Okay." I resist the urge to say be careful. He will be, and really, I'm the one who should be extra careful. We don't know who this woman is or what she is. We don't who her daughter is or who her daughter's friends are. All we know is that her daughter saw a ghost and is possibly a necromancer. Oh, and her boyfriend acts surprisingly wolf-like, though none of us has said that aloud. But since I mentioned his actions being familiar, we've all been thinking it. The possibility seems too farfetched to even voice, though.

Ten minutes later, I walk into the diner with five minutes to spare. I see Jeremy immediately, in a booth almost in the back corner of the room. He's got almost a perfect view of the entire diner, but a small, military Asian man sits in the corner booth behind Jeremy. The man is drinking coffee and reading a paper. A half eaten omelet sits in front of the him. Jeremy, too, is reading a paper and sipping coffee. I wonder where he got the paper as I scan the room.

Reese and Nick are sitting at the counter on barstools, two empty stools between them. Nick is wearing jeans and a baseball cap, not his usual style, and Reese too looks different in a blazer and designer jeans. They look like they switched clothes. They probably did.

Then I see a woman standing up in the corner of my eye. At a table in the corner of the room, directly diagonal from the Asian man and Jeremy, is Dr. Frend.

I smile and make my way over to her.

I hold out my hand and we shake. "Hello, Dr. Frend. I'm glad you decided to meet with me."

**(Lauren's POV)**

There she is. The redheaded bombshell. And she's in jeans and a t-shirt. Very different from the flashy dress she wore last night.

She must be around my age, but with bouncy curls and energy that radiates off her, she seems like a twenty year old.

I stand and wave her over to the table. Her face splits into a dazzling smile I'm sure she's used millions of times. She is an actor, after all. She shakes my hand when I offer it and expresses her gratitude that I agreed to meet with her.

I feel less than warm toward her bubbly attitude that's probably in place to make me soften toward her. Or maybe I'm being paranoid.

"Yes, well, you seemed…" I look for a word that's not rude or mean. "_Interested_ on the phone, Miss Vegas. I have a few questions, though."

We both sit and she leans forward in her seat. "Oh, I'm sure you do. I do, too. And please, call me Jaime." Her voice is high and she speaks quickly. For the first time, I wonder if she's nervous too.

She gestures to me. "So, uh Dr. Frend…" she says my name awkwardly.

I interrupt her. "Oh, Lauren's fine."

She smiles and continues. "You go first. What are your questions?"

I fold my hands on the table and think. I lick my lips, nervously. All of the questions Kit told me to ask fly out of my head and what I say instead is, "You saw us come in late?"

Oh, no. What kind of question is that? Of all the things, I ask about how she saw us come in late to her show! She mentioned on the phone that our lateness is what caught her attention. I really shouldn't be lingering on this, though.

Jaime seems to be thinking the same thing because her mouth drops open and her eyebrows lift.

I laugh and my hand flies to my forehead. I feel my face flame in embarrassment. "Sorry. I'm nervous. Don't answer that."

Jaime laughs and I can tell it's entirely genuine. Suddenly the tension between us lightens, despite the lack of trust. I'm still guarded, but I don't feel like this woman is going to pull a gun on me anymore.

"Let's try this again." I take a deep breath and Jaime straightens in her seat. We both compose ourselves. "Okay. First of all, you said you had questions about Chloe. I don't understand why you're interested in her and, frankly, I don't trust you."

Jaime waits a second before realizing she's supposed to say something to that. "Oh. Well, I thought it would be obvious why I was interested in Chloe. If she can see ghosts and I can, too, you can see why I'd want to, I don't know, at least talk with her. And I don't expect you to trust me. I can only hope that we'll both be able to have an open mind."

I think about this and decide she's right. I continue with my questions. "Second of all, I'm not convinced you're who you say you are."

Jaime looks taken aback. "Um, I'm Jaime Vegas. I've been a spiritualist for over twenty years, doing mostly live shows and appearing in a few televised shows." She looks confused.

I wave away her answer. "Oh, I know all that. I did some extensive research on you before we even bought tickets to your show." I stop before I give away that Chloe is a necromancer and we were checking her out to see if she's a candidate for being her mentor. I have already admitted to Chloe seeing a ghost, over the phone, but I just don't want to be completely outright. "What I mean is I'm not convinced you don't just want to use Chloe, make her part of your act or con me out of some money by telling me Chloe can be a spiritualist for only a thousand bucks. I'm not sure you didn't just come up with the term necromancer from a google search, either."

Jaime leans back in her seat, deliberating. It's my first glance at the serious side to this woman.

"Well, that answers one of my questions. You know what a necromancer is, obviously, if you're accusing me of not being one. And Chloe must really have seen that ghost if we're both going to the trouble of meeting here. I doubt you would have agreed to meet with me at all, otherwise. I can't prove to you that I'm a necromancer without raising a zombie or speaking to a dead relative of yours. And I'm not willing to do either of those, just yet."

I nod. "I don't want you to. So I guess we're at a stalemate."

Jaime shakes her head. "Not yet. If we both have open minds, we can coninue. I have a few questions, if you don't mind."

"Go ahead."

"Why did you come to my show?"

I purse my lips. "Would you believe me if I said I wanted to contact my dead mother?"

Jaime shakes her head.

"I thought not." I think a moment longer. I can't help glancing at Kit. He's ordering another cup of coffee and is on the fifth page of the paper. He can't tell me what to do. I'll have to take a leap of faith. And if I fall flat on my face, well, Kit will just have to deal with it and hopefully save our asses.

"So what you're asking is if Chloe really sees ghosts or if you're wrong and you just thought Chloe responded to one of the ghosts at your show."

Jaime shakes her head. "No. I'm already certain by this point that Chloe saw _something._ And that something was a ghost. What I really want to know is if she knows what she's doing and if you or anyone else has ever helped her deal with this."

Okay, I'm starting to like her better. She seems very reasonable and has good priorities if she's thinking about Chloe. And she hasn't mentioned Chloe being in an act at all. I lean back and reassess Miss Vegas. "I still don't know if I can trust you."

She leans forward over the table towards me. "I don't know if I can trust you either."

That does it. We can either sit here all day, staring at each other, or I can admit Chloe is an inexperienced necromancer and trust this woman with possibly all our lives.

I look at Kit again. He's not looking at me but I know he's aware of exactly where I am. Even if he can't hear what I'm saying, he can see me and he can help if I need it. And he'll be there later if this woman decides to stab us in the back. He'll get us out of any mess.

"Chloe's a necromancer." I blurt out. "So was my brother and Chloe's mother, my sister. Her mother died when Chloe was only a few years old and my brother committed suicide after going mad, before she was born. I'm ashamed to say I don't know anything about it and am no help to her. We went to your show out of some harebrained scheme that you might actually be a real necromancer. When you didn't react to any of the ghosts in your show, Chloe confirmed my suspicion that you were a fraud."

Jaime processes all of this and then takes a deep breath and seems to wilt into her seat. "I knew there was more going on here."

Her answer makes me nervous. "What do you mean?"

She looks up guiltily and I hope I haven't just made the biggest mistake ever. She sees my reaction and holds up a hand. "No, it is not what you're thinking. Whatever you're thinking. But I have something to confess."

I look at her warily. _Oh, god. What's she going to say now?_

She takes a deep breath. "A few days ago, I went to Danville." The name of the town we live near makes me stiffen. What was she doing there?

"I went to a store there called _The Tome_. Have you heard of it?" I shake my head, confused. "Well, it's a sort of supply store. For necromancers. I know the owner, Paul Viscotti."

What does this have to do with Chloe?

She answers my unspoken question. "Anyway, while I was there, a group of teenagers were browsing through some of the books. Some of them are very good sources of information, but more than half of them are fiction. Your daughter was one of the teens."

Wait. What?

She hurries to finish her story, seeing that I'm becoming increasingly upset. "At first I didn't think anything of the teens except that they seemed like an odd group of kids to hanging out together. A big guy that looks like a linebacker, a small girl, and an average Asian kid with blond hair. They were nothing to be interested in. It was only when I was leaving the store that I heard your daughter talking about zombies. She said something about all the times she'd been close to them."

I suck in a breath. How could Chloe say something like that in public?

Jaime sees my reaction and hurries to explain. "It was very quiet in the room and I'm sure she didn't think I could hear her. And even then, I didn't really pay serious attention to her. After all, I couldn't seriously expect a random teenage girl to have been around real zombies."

"So I left with only a slightly weirded out feeling, but otherwise tried not to dwell on the odd even," Jaime says. I can't help but be amused by her choice of words. Weirded out. They sound so young.

I interrupt her. "So when you saw her at your show, I'm sure it was a shock. And then seeing her reaction to a ghost no one else could see was probably a lot to handle." I can only imagine how she stayed so composed during the show. I realize that I've already accepted that she's a necromancer. I believe her.

I sit back and she does too, both shocked at how this meeting went.

"Now what?" she asks.

"Well," I wave over the waitress whose been hovering behind the counter. I told her just before Jaime arrived that we'd order after we had a discussion. "We can eat. I don't know about you, but I need something to eat." I haven't eaten all morning from nerves, but I feel…well truthfully, I'm still shocked. But I think eating will help.

We both order and once the waitress is gone I ask, "I'm sure you'd like to speak with Chloe. I didn't tell her that I was coming to meet with you. She was so disappointed last night and I didn't want to bring you up." I frown at her in disapproval as I realize something.

"So, if you were ignoring all those ghosts, like you said over the phone, then you _are_ conning all those people."

She sighs. "I'm good at performing. I've always been able to talk with ghosts, but ghosts aren't always the best people to talk with. At my shows, the occasional ghost of a relative will be happy or heartbroken at seeing a loved one in the crowd. And occasionally I'll act somewhat as an interpreter between the two. But more often the relatives aren't there, and I give a generic "they want you to be happy and move one" line. Other times, like I said, they're pissed because their son or daughter or cousin is milking the attention they're getting from being grief stricken or some other thing. Those ones just want to yell at my audience. Which does not make for a good show."

"Ah. I see."

She raises an eyebrow. "No, you probably don't. That's the best way to explain it though. And if you are judging me because I'm lying to grieving people, know this." She leans forward and places both hands on the table. "A lot of those people find peace after talking with me. I find the peace they find makes all the lies worthwhile."

I nod. "Okay. Point made."

She bites her lip and we are silent while the waitress sets down our food. We eat in silence for awhile.

When we've both gotten about half way through our dishes, I speak again. "If you did meet with Chloe, what would you do?"

Jaime looks up at me and considers. "Well, first I'd find out everything she knows, so I can get a feel for how to build on her education. You know, what tricks she has for when she sees a ghost, how she handles it when they want to talk with her, that kind of thing. Then I guess, if she wanted to, I could teach her anything she wanted to know. I'd teach her the basics that every necromancer should know, too."

She thinks a little longer and takes another bite of her salad. "That is, if she even wants to see me. And if you both agree to it, I can mentor her. It takes longer than a few afternoons to be a good necromancer. I move around a lot so I might have to give her instructions over the phone or e-mail. But we can work out some kind of arrangement later. I might know a necromancer who lives closer to the area if you weren't willing to move somewhere."

I am just trying to process the fact Chloe might actually have someone to help her when she goes on. "I'm on the Council, you know. If you don't know what that is, it's a group of representatives of each supernatural race. We've got vampires, werewolves, witches, half-demons…We're sort of elected officials that keep track of our own races and help out supernaturals that come to us. Kind of a police force. Though how successful we are can be debated." She mumbles the last part so I'm not sure what she said.

"This Council. I've heard a little about it, but I thought it was witches only."

Jaime nods. "Used to be only Coven witches. Pretty recently one of the witches decided to include all of the supernatural races. Started out with a few half-demons and a vampire. Then the werewolf Pack joined. Now we have almost every race represented. Occasionally, we enlist the help of a human."

I hold my tongue when I want to comment on the prudence of letting _werewolves_ onto such a council.

This is too much to take in. I hold up a hand. "Excuse, Jaime. But this whole situation might go better if..." I lean over to look at Kit, now on the last page of his newspaper. I wave at him and he looks up, annoyed. He probably doesn't want his cover blown, but I need him to hear all this.

"I'm really sorry, but I have back up. I wasn't sure if I could trust you. I'm bringing him over here now so I don't to repeat everything you say later." And I'm still not trusting you with the knowledge of the Edison Group, though that'll come later if we decide to let her mentor Chloe. Kit stands up and walks over to us. Jaime flushes and looks completely taken aback.

"Oh. Well, um, okay. I guess that makes sense." She looks uncomfortable and slightly guilty.

Kit is standing next to us. I gesture to him. "This is Kit Bae. Kit, Jaime Vegas." They nod at each other. I can tell Kit is angry but he does a good job of hiding it. "Kit, please join us. I would like you to hear what Jaime has to say because honestly, I don't think I can remember all of it."

Kit sits down stiffly. "Well, if we're all coming out and being forthright, I think it's only fair that you have your man join us."

I look at Kit. _What on earth is he is talking about?_

Jaime flushes before turning to look behind her. The man who was sitting at the booth in front of Kit stands up, abandoning his own newspaper. He has a slight smile on his face as if he finds something amusing. Long hair falls in his eyes and his dark looks make him look dangerous. I realize that he was doing the same thing for Jaime as Kit was for me. Backup.

Oh, dear. How did Kit know?

Kit and I both stand as Jaime's own backup comes toward us. "Perhaps we should move this meeting to a more appropriate venue." His voice is commanding and powerful. He has the air of a very sophisticated man used to dealing with all kinds of problems. He seems…experienced.

Kit gives Jaime and then man a narrow eyed look. "And the other two." Oh, lord. Now what?

Jaime's backup man smiles at Kit and gives him a nod. "Impressive."

Kit doesn't look flattered. "Not really." I give Kit a look-he's being very abrasive and I don't think they've done anything yet to deserve his hostility.

But then, the two men from the counter get up. The dark one wearing a baseball cap has a goofy grin on his face, making him look very good looking, despite the gruffness of his stubble covered jaw. The other man looks wary and young. When they come over to us, I realize Jaime out did me. She brought all three men as backup. Wow.

I raise my eyebrows at her and she blushes. "We weren't sure about you..."

I give her a disbelieving look. "_You _set up the meeting!" The man Kit is glaring at, clearly the one in charge, glances around. "Perhaps we should leave now."

We all agree that we need to leave. I pay for both meals, despite several protests.

"I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?" I ask Jaime's main backup man as we step out onto the sidewalk in the afternoon sun.

He smiles warmly at me. "I didn't, Dr. Frend. I'm Jeremy." He doesn't volunteer a last name but I decide not to press for it just yet.

"Where should we continue this conversation? I feel like we have quite a bit to discuss." Kit says this in a clipped tone. He's still not happy I broke his cover.

Jaime chips in. "My hotel. We can rent one of the meeting rooms. I'm staying at the Holiday Inn."

I nod. "Okay. Would you like us to follow you there?"

Jeremy nods. "Yes. We'll call ahead and book the room. We'll meet in the lobby."

We set off, in different directions, to our cars.

**(Fifteen minutes later in the meeting room at the Holiday Inn)**

My ears are still ringing from Kit yelling at me during the car ride. I didn't ask the right questions or follow protocol. Apparently, I can't be trusted any longer and I'm not allowed to speak at this meeting.

We'll see about that. I can see some of Derek's behavior being explained by this side of Kit and I can't say this pleases me.

It's not only Jaime and Jeremy in the room with us. The other two backup are here and I can't help feeling at leas a little uncomfortable.

When we get to the meeting room, introductions are made.

Jaime begins by introducing the Blond man who looks scarcely older than Derek. "Dr. Frend, this is Reese Williams. Reese, Dr. Lauren Frend." We shake and Jaime moves on to the darker man. He looks the closest my age, maybe in his mid-thirties. He's very handsome but I don't let his charm-ridden, womanizing smile fool me. "Lauren, this is Nicholas Sorrentino. Nick, Dr. Lauren Frend." We shake.

She makes the same introductions with Kit then explains a little further. "Nick and Reese are going to be our extra security, if you don't mind."

Kit is in a very bad temper and snaps at her. "Are you expecting trouble?"

Jeremy answers him, drawing Kit's attention away from Jaime who looks startled by his tone. "I'm always expecting trouble, Mr. Bae." Kit seem to think this is a reasonable response and backs off. For the moment. I, on the other hand, only become extremely wary from his answer. Why does he always expect trouble? Can we trust these people? Are they safe?

We sit at the table. Jeremy starts by requesting a recap of what Jaime and I have said so far.

Jaime goes through our conversation with surprising detail. It's another insight to her sharp mind. Don't let the bouncy curls fool you or the too big smile. This woman is smart.

Jeremy listens raptly and Kit does too. When her recap is over, Kit looks to me.

"She got it right. Didn't leave anything out." Apparently I can talk when he gives me permission, I think bitterly. He nods and turns his attention to Jaime.

"So, you know why we're here. Chloe needs help we can't give her. It sounds like you can, and may I assume you are willing to give, that help?"

Jaime nods and Jeremy answers too. "I am on the Council, also, and I know we have considerable influence. We can give Chloe all the help she needs. We can provide paper work if necessary and educate her in necromancy. Anything you need, we can try to provide." Very diplomatic. This Council sounds too good to be true.

He looks to me. "Also, I know you're wary of trusting us, as you should be. But the reason I always expect trouble is that being on the Council means dealing with potentially dangerous situation, often. I'm not saying this is the case right now, but I'd rather be safe than sorry." He gives me another warm smile and I'm put at ease.

Kit considers this. His jaw clenches and his back is so straight I think it might snap. "We're willing to do what's necessary to get a full time mentor for Chloe. And we appreciate your help.

When he says this, my heart swells. I realize just how much Kit has come to care for Chloe. Like his own daughter. My throat tightens, but I clear it and look down at the table.

Kit continues. "But I think more explaining needs to be done before any decisions are made. I just wanted you to know the lengths we'll go to. And we'll do anything for our kids."

Jeremy narrows his eyes at Kit's tone. Jaime perks up at the word 'kids' since we've only discussed Chloe. They'll have to know about Tori, Simon and Derek, too. The security boys listen, but otherwise sit unobtrusively across the table.

After a moment, Jeremy nods for Kit to continue.

"It sounds like Jaime has already encountered our kids. In the bookstore." He gives her a look. "Who you saw were Derek, Simon, and Chloe. Derek was the one you described as a linebacker, I believe. Simon is my son, the 'blond Asian'. You know Chloe was the small girl."

Oh, boy here's where it gets tricky. Kit goes on, "All three teens are supernaturals. I also have a daughter. She was at your show, Jaime, with Chloe and Lauren. Her name is Victoria, she too is a supernatural. The only human in our small, well, _family_ I guess you could call us, is Lauren." I don't react when Jeremy looks at me sharply. This news seems to surprise him, though I don't know why.

Jeremy looks impassive, almost bored a moment later. Jaime is on the edge of her seat, taking all of this in. The other two, the extra security, look completely surprised.

Kit sighs. "This is going to take awhile to explain. How long do we have the meeting room for?"

Jeremy answers. "Until midnight. We shouldn't be interrupted."

Kit nods and looks at me. I stand up. "I'll call the kids, tell them we'll be here longer than we thought." I leave the room to call Chloe. She doesn't answer her cell or the house phone so I leave a message on the house phone answering machine. When I get back to the room, no one has moved. Kit has waited for me to return.

"Where should we start?" I ask Kit as I sit down.

He narrows his eyes at me, a clear reminder that I'm not to be trusted and should keep my mouth closed.

Anger sparks in me and I glare back at him. "Oh, hush up. I have a part in this, too. Just as big a part as you."

We glare at each other until Jeremy interrupts our glaring contest by clearing his throat.

"May I suggest starting at how you came to be running?" At my surprised expression, he elaborates. "I'm on the Council, remember. Both Jaime and I have experience in checking up on people. After the show last night, we were able to get your name from the ticket you purchased. From there we were able to get some records. Records, I might add, that looked less than credible. There were some clear signs that your paper trail was done in a hurry."

I turn to glare at Kit. "I thought you said they were flawless!"

He glares at me. "I said the first ones were flawless. Since we had to move again after…" he glances at Jeremy. "After Derek's mishap **{(Belonging by Kelley Armstrong)}** I had to do a rush job on the next set. For both of us." He glares at Jeremy. "They're good enough to fool most police background checks."

Jeremy gives an apologetic smile. "We're very experienced in identifying false paper work. I'm sure you did the best you could under the circumstances."

Kit gives a slight nod and I roll my eyes. Jeez. Could he be any more of a guy?

I sigh. "I think we should start with the kids. Then the Edison Group, since it _is_ the reason we're running." Kit nods.

Kit starts by first explaining who and what the kids are. He doesn't mention the experiment, but we'll get to that later. Then he motions for me to go ahead a speak.

I begin by giving my real name. Then move on to how I became involved with the Edison Group. Jeremy doesn't give anything away, just sits back and listens with a concerned expression. When I explain what the Edison Group is, his expression briefly turns irate before resuming his impassiveness. I explain up to the point where my sister decided to enroll her daughter, Chloe, in Project Genesis. Then I give Kit a chance to explain.

He gives his own story about how he became involved in the Edison Group. He goes on to explain how Simon was involved. Then moved on to Derek's story. When Jeremy hears Derek's story, he looks briefly angry and has to grip his chair. His reaction is startling. It's a moment before Kit continues. Then he explains the life he, Simon, and Derek had living on the run. Then comes the part where the Edison Group became a much bigger problem.

Kit explains how he was kidnapped and while he was gone, Derek and Simon were taken by the Edison Group to a place called Lyle House. We explain about Lyle House and its purpose. By this time, Jaime has her head resting on the table, pale and shaking.

I lay my hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright, dear?" She lifts her head and I see that she has tear stains on her face. She nods.

"It's just a lot to take in."

I nod. "I know. Sometimes I can't believe it actually happened. Should we take a break? Maybe get some fresh air?"

Jeremy sits forward suddenly. "Yes. I think that would be a very good idea. Let's all take a bathroom and food break. I'm sure some of us are hungry."

We all disperse. It's almost four o'clock now and we still have a lot to cover. If these people can be trusted, and I think they can, then they'll help us. We just need to give them all the facts first.

After the break, we continue to explain. Jeremy asks questions and only very rarely do Reese or Nick or even Jaime ask their own questions. It takes almost six hours total to give them the full story.

By eight o'clock, we're all fried from the long questioning. We've been discussing everything from names of Edison Group members, to books Chloe and Derek have read on supernaturals. We even had a brief discussion over the phone with a few Council members. Elena Danvers and Paige Cortez have both taken on the duty of dealing with the Edison Group. Paige's husband has contacts among the sorcerer Cabals and he'll do what he can. Originally, Kit was hesitant about Paige's husband's involvement, being hesistant to trust anyone with a connection to a Cabal, but Jeremy and Paige both reassured us that Lucas was very Anit-Cabal.

Everyone seems to think that they can find someone who will be able to help Tori, though they make no promises and give no names. Everything seems unreal, all the help the Council is going to give us.

We make plans for Jeremy and Jaime to meet the kids tomorrow at lunch. Nick and Reese will be coming, too. Kit had a small debate with Jeremy over this, though I'm not sure why. Before we leave, Kit has a talk with Jeremy that I don't hear.

It doesn't matter, though. Our lives change tomorrow.

We excuse ourselves and make the drive home.

We decided to tell the kids tomorrow morning over breakfast about speaking with Jaime and all we found out. We don't want to just spring it on them when they show up tomorrow, but we don't want to wake them up when we get home tonight. We'll make sure they know before our guests show up. Kit thinks they'll understand. But they've become so independent. I'm not sure how they'll react to having more adults controlling their lives. But if it means help, then they're going to accept it.

Jeremy thinks Derek can get some help and he has werewolf contacts who are willing to help out a young werewolf. It make sense since there are werewolves on the council, that Jeremy would be able to find one willing to help. But I'm not comfortable with a werewolf coming to help Derek. I mean to speak with Kit about that. Werewolves just can't be trusted, even if they have good intentions. If Derek wants help, he can e-mail or make the visits himself. He can take care of himself. I'm not letting anymore werewolves near Chloe.

And Chloe. She'll finally gets some answers. The relief is so great that I start to drift to sleep in the van.

Just before I fall asleep, I remember something Jeremy said. "I'm on the Council, too." I never asked, but I wonder what kind of supernatural he is. They only have humans _help,_ they aren't actually _on_ the council. So that means he must be supernatural.

I drift off to sleep before I ask Kit if he knows.

**(Kit's POV) the discussion he had with Jeremy**

I'm feeling very uncomfortable, especially because I've come to respect this man in the few hours I've been with him. Jeremy waits patiently for me to gather my thoughts.

"I don't know how to say this, but...Lauren." I look over at her, speaking with Jaime at the table. "She has a very, um...prejudiced view when it comes to werewolves. I'm not sure if it stem from a bad past experience or if it's just how she was taught to think."

Jeremy's eyebrows shoot up. "And you're telling me this because...?"

I give him a look. "Let's not pretend you're some other kind of supernatural. I know you and your boys," I gesture to the two minions who are sitting very still at the table, carefully not looking at us, "are werewolves. And I know they're listening." When their backs stiffen, I chuckle. "They can join the conversation if they'd like, but I think that would draw Lauren's attention. I'd she didn't know I was discussing her, though, if you don't mind."

Jeremy deliberates for a moment before nodding. "Very well. Reese, Nick," he doesn't have to raise his voice. They'll hear. "Listen, but please do a better job of being acting casual."

Jeremy looks amused, but he gives me his attention. "You were saying?"

I sigh. "Lauren. She doesn't trust werewolves and she doesn't know much about them I know only very little from raising Derek and because of the experiment I don't know what's normal and what's not." This is painful to say. I feel like I'm admitting that I'm a bad parent. "I love Derek. But I don't know what to do most of the time. All I could do was give false or half reassurances that what he's going through is normal."

Jeremy rests a hand on my shoulder. "It sounds like you've been doing a great job and Derek is a great kid. He's handled a lot and has come out of this in better shape than I'd expect from anyone."

I nod. "I'm getting off track though. Lauren doesn't realize you're a werewolf and if she did, she probably wouldn't be accpeting any of your help. So I'd like to prolong her figuring it out until you've had a chance to meet the kids and Derek."

Jeremy looks uncomfortable. "I'm not sure this is a great plan..."

"I know. But honestly, Lauren's prejudice clouds how she treats Derek and she's known him for months now. She'll become unreasonable if she finds out too soon. I don't have any say over what she does with Chloe, but I'm not going to let her stop me from getting help for my son."

Jeremy gives me a measuring look and I'm not sure what he decides, but he agrees not to tell Lauren. We decide that she'll need to know at least by tomorrow. "I'll tell her when we tell the kids you're coming to the house."


	9. Chapter 9

**(Chloe's POV the next morning)**

I wake up to the sound of birds chirping and the sun in my eyes.

My head is resting on Derek's chest and both of his arms are around me. I'm too warm, but I don't care. Our legs are tangled and I can't think of a way to move without waking him up. So I lay there for awhile, gently lifting up on my elbows so I can see his face.

His mouth is hanging open and his hair is a mess. But he's fast asleep and adorable. I lie back down and remember the perfect day we had yesterday. All we did was look up colleges. We talked about the future: college, a career for both of us, what it would be like after all that, a house and marriage (just abstractly, not us in particular, but the institution of it). We also talked about what the modifications meant for the next generation—if we could have kids or not. We only talked conceptually, not wanting to get too serious. I try to remember one, but I don't think we had even one argument.

Derek made lunch and, later, dinner. It was funny watching him struggle with the very domestic activity. He only burned two grilled-cheeses, though, and I applauded him afterward.

I feel Derek shift beside me and know he's awake. I look up and see that he's staring down at me. I grin.

"Good morning."

The corner of his mouth quirks up. "Morning." He sits up, taking me with him. He looks around then pulls his watch out of his pants pocket. After he Changed back to human, he must have partly dressed. I fell asleep when he was still wolf so I didn't see him dress. Now, he is wearing sweat pants and socks, but no shirt or shoes. I have a very nice view of his perfectly muscled chest.

He looks at me. "It's almost nine. We should head back before they start searching the forest for us." He stands up and offers his hand to me.

I take it with a sigh. We shouldn't have stayed out last night, but I'm glad we did.

He looks around, searching the forest, a slightly perplexed expression on his face.

"What is it?" I ask him. He looks at me a little surprised, then his mouth quirks again.

"I was just wondering why they aren't already looking for us now." Good point. I look around, suddenly wondering if they're watching us right now. I peer into the trees around us.

But then Derek relaxes and he laughs. "Nobody's here but us Chloe." He grabs me and pulls me into his side. "And actually, Dad and Lauren didn't get back until late last night. You fell asleep before then, but they got back around three in the morning. They're probably just sleeping in."

_Oh, good. Maybe we can still sneak in with no one the wiser_, I think hopefully.

We start to head back, Derek's arm around my waist. I'm stiff from sleeping on the ground but Derek moves just as gracefully and silently as he usually does.

When we get closer to the house Derek stops and sniffs the air. He looks confused again, but we continue going. His eyebrows are drawn together as we reach the backyard and I realize why as I smell something coming from the open kitchen window. Waffles.

I stiffen. Oh, no. They _are_ up.

And making breakfast, apparently.

I look at Derek but he doesn't have an answer for me. So I can only assume they are waiting for us to get back if they are up and not looking for us. And if they are waiting for us, they are probably going to talk to us. _They_ being Lauren and Kit. Probably going to tell us we can't date anymore, or lecture us for being irresponsible.

Well, they can try and Derek and I will give them Hell. I'm not going to lie down and let Kit and Lauren make all the decisions, especially concerning mine and Derek's relationship. We've had to make decisions nobody should have to make and we've handle situations, like being shot at and captured and held at gun point. I think we can make the decision to date.

I stiffen my back and resolve to walk through the door with my head held high. I march up the stairs to the kitchen, my shoes making a slightly dissatisfying thud. I stomp harder and the sound reverberates through my ankle bones. There, that's more like it.

I push the door open and step through, surveying the kitchen, my head high and eyes daring someone to challenge…

No one is in here.

I look back and see Derek is standing in the doorway, one eyebrow raised. _What is going on?_ Where is everybody and why is there a plate of waffles getting cold on the counter?

Derek narrows his eyes at me. _Stay, Chloe. I mean it. _He walks ahead of me and through to the dining room. I am two steps behind him. Damn him and his warning to stay back. He knows by now I can take care of myself. Actually, I'm starting to wonder if he likes that I defy him and enjoys yelling at me afterward. No, not the yelling part, but maybe he likes the defying part. So, I stay right behind him and get only one growl from him.

Tori and Simon are sitting at the table silently, eating their waffles and Kit is alone at the other end of the table. He's rotating his cup of coffee but not drinking it, and reading the newspaper. He doesn't look up as he addresses Derek and me.

"Do you two need to change clothes? And you'll each want a shower. The waffles are probably already cold—Lauren made them half an hour ago. Hurry, and get ready." He looks up and meets our eyes individually. "We need to talk." He says all this without heat, despite the tension in his posture.

He goes back to reading his paper. Derek looks to Simon for a clue, but he shakes his head and points upstairs and stands up from the table. Tori ignores us. Simon follows us up the stairs and I go quietly, despite my curiosity being set into overdrive. Where's Aunt Lauren? Why isn't Kit yelling? What's he waiting for? Where's Aunt Lauren?

As we reach the top of the stairs I tap Simon on the shoulder. "What's-?"

He shoves his hand over my mouth to st0p me from speaking and brings a finger up to his lips in the universal 'quiet' sign. Then he points to a door down the hall that's shut. Aunt Lauren's room.

I narrow my eyes at him and Derek growls before slapping Simon's hand away from my mouth. He smirks, but shrugs and we continue on.

I don't understand. Is she still asleep? Does she not know what's going on? I definitely don't want to wake her up then.

We tiptoe past her door and I quickly stop in my room and grab clothes before heading to Derek's room with him and Simon.

Derek gets in the shower since he can hear well enough through the door and running water; while I wait to use the shower, Simon explains knowing Derek can hear him too.

"Your Aunt woke up and made waffles. Lauren and Dad are both taking the day off and I have no idea why, but Dad won't let Tori or I go anywhere. When Tori came downstairs, that's when your Aunt figured out you guys were gone."

Huh. Still not making sense. "So why weren't you guys looking for us? And why is Aunt Lauren still asleep? Or is she not asleep? What is going on?"

Derek opens the bathroom door so steam gushes out. He walks out and hands a fresh towel to me. I take it but wait for Simon to finish explaining. He looks slightly awkward. What? Derek has pants on.

"Well, I didn't hear everything, but I know your Aunt went out and was yelling for you. Dad went after her to try and calm her down, but she was panicking. I guess she said something about Derek," he glances at Derek nervously, "that Dad didn't like. He looked really mad and blasted her." At my stricken look, he revises his sentence. "I mean, _yelled_ at her. No magic was used Chloe." I look at Derek and his eyes are narrowed as he thinks this through.

**(I have Lauren's reaction and the yelling match between her a Kit written down, but decided to shorten the chapter by taking it out. It was a big part, but not a necessary one. I will put in all the extras I've cut from my story when it's finished. They'll be titled extras 1, 2, 3, etc.)**

"So…is Kit mad at us? Or just mad at my Aunt? Or…what?" I ask, still confused.

Simon shrugs. "Probably both. But I think there was a reason he and Lauren are home today and it's something to do with where they went yesterday." He stands up to leave, patting my shoulder. "Don't worry about last night. Dad understands and he trusts both of you. And after she was yelled at, Lauren came up here and hasn't been downstairs since. She probably won't bug you either. But hurry and get down there. Dad doesn't just want to talk to you. It's all of us he wants to say something to."

He leaves on that very ominous note. Before he is completely out of the door, he turns back with a goofy grin. "So, uh…how _was_ last night?" He wiggles his eyebrows. "You crazy kids have fun?"

He ducks out the door as I chuck a pillow from Derek's bed at him.

Fifteen minutes later (my showers take longer, thank you very much), we're all seated around the table, minus Aunt Lauren. I volunteered to get her, but Kit said that wasn't necessary: he was going up to talk to her after he explained some things to us.

Kit's sitting at the head of the table and we're all looking at him. My hair is still damp, but at least it's not dripping anymore. I grab it all and pull it back into a messy ponytail. Derek and I have a stack of waffles between us and I'm eating slowly while Derek practically eats several of them whole. A whole pitcher of orange juice is slowly disappearing as we fill our glasses—Derek multiple times.

Kit is tapping his fingers on the table and staring at them. Da-da-da-dum. He doesn't stop as he speaks, just continues to tap the table steadily. "Yesterday morning, Lauren received a call." He looks up and meets my gaze briefly. "Jaime Vegas was calling to say that she noticed an odd reaction from Chloe at the show. So odd a reaction that she decided to track down the seat number of the girl and the owners of the tickets for those seats around her. By doing this she got your aunt's name and then from there, got her cell number."

All the blood has drained from my face and Tori looks about the same. I stop eating. Derek is glaring daggers at me, no longer eating either. I'd be glaring daggers at me too, if I could. Stupid, stupid, stupid. What did I do? I attracted attention to us. The number one rule is stay inconspicuous. Is Jaime Vegas about to expose us? Crap.

Kit goes on, his hands folded now in front of him on the table. He stares at them as he speaks. I get the feeling that he's hiding some emotion by focusing on his hands, instead of meeting our eyes. It is annoying. "Before you all panic, let me tell you Ms. Vegas's stated reason for calling. She wanted to meet with Lauren, assuming she was your mom, Chloe. Lauren acted appropriately," Kit says loudly because Derek was about to say something. I realize it was probably a criticism of how Lauren took the phone call. "Jaime just wanted to talk, in person, and Lauren decided to think about it. We weighed the risks and decided to talk to her. Mainly, because…" Kit stops and looks up. Suddenly, he's staring directly at me. I can't tell what he's thinking, his face completely expressionless, his eyes hard and focused.

What is he going to say? I wasn't expecting any of this. They went to talk with that phony, Jaime Vegas, yesterday? Why? Is she a threat because I acted weird at her show?

"When she realized your aunt was about to hang up on her, Jaime said that she wanted to know if you could see ghosts." My mind goes blank. I feel my eyes glaze over as I feel like I'm going into heart failure. What does this _mean?_ "She said that she _was _a necromancer and—"

Tori cuts him off. "Wait a second! So Jaime Vegas says she's a necromancer and you guys just _believe_ her? What the hell? Am I the only one who sees how ridiculous this is? Did she prove it to you guys yesterday? What was your meeting like? What happened? Are we moving?"

Derek growls. "I'm sure he was getting to that, Tori." He glares at her and she shrinks into her chair and crosses her arms. I don't react at all to this little event, though it steals my focus. Derek isn't supposed to be scaring any of us. It'll only make Aunt Lauren like him less. But I can't muster the gumption to do anything about it. At least Aunt Lauren wasn't here to see that.

Kit raises his eyebrows but otherwise continues as if Tori hadn't spoken at all. I can only sit and listen. Simon seems to be daydreaming, but I know he's taking all of this in as much as I am.

"She said she was a necromancer and that if Chloe can see ghosts, but doesn't know how to handle it, she can help. The reason she thought Chloe could see ghosts, was that they were popping up at her show and she was having difficulty ignoring them herself. Those ghosts hadn't been in the building before, so she put the dots together," he looks at me and is speaking to me, though I can't focus on his face, I'm so shocked. "When a particular ghost popped up and frightened you so much, you jumped and immediately left the show. She figured and extra necromancer would be enough to attract all those ghosts and you didn't know what was going on and bolted. Also, no one else jumped in their seats at the exact time a ghost appeared in front of you." The last was said in a hard voice and I can tell he's unhappy that I let my control go in public.

Ah, so that's the reaction she saw. That's the exact thing we need to avoid. And I screwed up.

Kit is doing a good job of controlling himself at the moment. I'm sure that whatever he has left to say is the only holding him back from lecturing me. Derek looks ready to lecture me himself.

When Diane popped up, I about peed myself. Jaime Vegas must have seen me jump when I saw Diane, and I really want to point out that they would've jumped, too, but there's no excuse for me.

I nod slightly, acknowledging that I screwed up. I'm trembling, as I realize what I've done. We're going to have to leave for sure. I messed up.

But kit isn't done and he turns away from me, probably no longer able to look at me.

"So, we decided to meet with her. She could have been acting and could have been working for the Cabal, but the likely hood of a tv show spiritualist, someone who is constantly in the public eye for doing something supernatural, wouldn't be a likely candidate for the Cabals, we thought. So went to see her."

I sit up on the edge of my seat, though I want to wallow in my shame. We need to know what happened. Everyone is listening raptly, but Kit continues to sit, staring at his hands.

I am still trembling, and even though he's probably disappointed in me and mad that I fucked up, Derek takes my hand. I peek at him and…

He squeezes my hand. A small reassurance, but a reassurance that at least I'm not on _his_ shit list. Tori keeps glances at me, pissed as all get out. Simon is as tense as his father and sits ramrod straight, his eyes fixed on Kit.

"At the meeting, she came and spoke with Lauren for maybe an hour, a little less probably. Later, we all spoke, as well as a few others who came as backup for Jaime, just as I went as backup for Lauren."

Derek is making a low growl, but coughs and cuts it off with difficulty. Simon looks confused and his voice is gruff when he asks, "Why would she need backup?"

Kit sighs. "I realize now how big a risk each of us was taking. Jaime _is_ a necromancer," he looks at me and I feel my eyes widen. I don't know how to feel right now beyond shock. Again. "And she serves on the Council, so she has the resources to bring back up. And necromancers aren't equipped to handle some situations, Simon."

I'm still confused. I find my voice, but it's barely a whisper. "But…Why did she think she needed back up? Why would she think Lauren or I would be a danger to her if I'm just a necromancer? Did you say she was on the Council?"

Kit nods, as if he was expecting these questions. "Yes, she's on the Council. I'll talk about that in a minute. She had another reason for being interested in you other than you arousing her curiosity at her show. Did you, Derek, and Simon go into a store in town the other day called _The Tome?_"

We all nod.

"Jaime was in there that day. The back of the store is a supply store for necromancers. There aren't many stores like _The Tome._ Anyway, she saw you there and overheard all of you talking about zombies." His gives us each a hard look. Again, disappointment and anger, but directed at all of us, not just me. I don't feel any better, sharing the blame.

Derek glares at Simon and me. We were doing all the talking; Derek had been shushing us and reading silently. I slump a little lower. How could I have been so careless? Tori gapes at me, probably thinking the same thing. Her hands starts to twitch, but she stays calm. Though she's blistering mad.

Simon interrupts his father. "So, is Jaime working for the Edison Group? Is that why she had backup? Are we moving?"

Kit shakes his head. "No, we aren't moving. And like I said, she works for the Council. They, meaning the Council, didn't know about the Edison Group until Lauren and I told them about it yesterday. What the Council does is take care of Supernaturals who are in trouble with exposure or other supernaturals. They help those who need it. They didn't know about the Edison Group, otherwise they would have tried to stop it. Right now, they're trying to do something about it, but they aren't sure what they can do. It all depends on the legal documentation, but I'm not going to get into it right now.

"Anyway, Jaime had backup because she wasn't sure what to expect after seeing you three at the store, then Chloe at her show. She wasn't sure if she was dealing with a stalker or an inexperienced necromancer. She also noticed Derek." Kit glances at Derek and some silent communication goes on between them. Derek leans back in his chair and folds his arms, staring at his dad.

"She noticed Derek's behavior and thought it was note worthy. She's spent some time with werewolves."

Tori's mouth drops open and Simon is blinking rapidly. Really? A necromancer hanging with a werewolf shouldn't _so _ridiculous. Hello, Derek and Chloe?

"Jaime's backup were three werewolves."

This gets a bigger reaction. At least from Simon, Tori, and I. Derek doesn't move or say anything. Just looks at the wall, away from us his arms folded over his chest and I wish he wouldn't have dropped my hand. Tori gasps and her hands flash for second. Simon scoots back in his chair so fast the chair makes a loud squealing noise.

I look at Derek, my hand flying to my mouth. But otherwise, I wait for Kit to finish explaining. This is all a little overwhelming.

"One of the werewolves is also on the Council." He takes a deep breath and looks each of us in the eyes. "It took awhile, but Lauren and I feel that we can trust these people. We explained a lot to them, mostly about the experiments…and you four."

I look at Kit. I want to say he didn't have any right telling strangers all about us without at least discussing it with us first, but Tori beats me too it.

"What!" her voice squeaks, going up several pitches. "You told them _what_?"

Kit narrows his eyes and straightens his shoulders and his voice is dangerous. "Tori, think before you say anything more. Before you do anything. Now, do you honestly think that either of us, Lauren or I, would say _anything_ to someone we didn't think we could trust? Would we say something to put any of you in danger?"

He gives us all hard looks. Derek still is staring at the wall, but I meet Kit's gaze, and so does Simon. Tori glares at him.

"We decided it was the right move." He sighs and softens his tone. "Guys, I'm going to be honest." Derek looks back at him and the look in his eyes in unreadable. Kit doesn't meet his eyes for more than a moment; from guilt, maybe. He looks at the rest of us. "Lauren and I are doing our best. We love you. We really do. You are our family, and we will do _anything_ for you." His expression is hardens and he clenches his jaw, emotions brimming in his eyes. "But we can't get everything for you, like we wish we could. We can't give you the training or help you need. Just like we can't take back every second you had to spend on your own or at Lyle House, or…" He breaks off and Simon reaches over to grab his hand.

"We're fine now dad." Kit nods. It's weird to see Kit showing emotion, even though his eyes are dry and he's breathing evenly. It's obvious he needs a moment.

He looks back at us and then focuses on Tori. "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to trust us, like it or not. I know all of you have become very independent and we can't make this decision for you, but this opportunity came to us for you to get help and I think it would be foolish not to take it. Jaime and Jeremy are coming here at noon to meet all of you."

Shocked silence ensues.

We are all sitting here, absorbing what he just said. Derek is the fastest and he thinks through what he needs to. Then gets up and leaves the room. As he passes Kit he whispers something in his ear. Kit nods and slaps his shoulder before letting him leave. I don't know what to do.

I ask Kit, "S-so…Jaime Vegas…_is_ a n-necromancer?" I don't know what to think.

He nods. "A-and she's coming…_here?"_

He nods. He swallows once before speaking, "You can talk to her later and I think she's willing to answer any of your questions."

He looks at all of us, worried. "What I'm really concerned about is you guys being okay with mine and Lauren's decision to let them come here."

Tori slams her hand down. "Well, I'm pissed!"

Simon glares at her before getting in her face. "Why! Because our dad was looking out for us?" I'm temporarily shocked that he called Kit, his and Tori's dad. 'Our dad' he said.

"Wake up Tori! Dad loves us and he is not going to do anything to hurt us." He softens his tone and touches her shoulder. She's not looking at him as he speaks, but I see her lip trembling. "I know you're not exactly used to it, but dad cares about you and all of us. He'll protect you."

Kit places his hand on Tori's other shoulder and suddenly I'm feeling very much like the intruder.

I stand up and Kit looks up at the sound of my chair scraping. He gives me a questioning, searching look. I shrug. "I don't know how I feel about it yet. I'm not pissed, but I'm not…" I shake my head and shrug. I'm not happy. Not by a long shot. And I leave.

I want to find Derek and talk with him.

Derek is in the basement and he's lifting too much weight. Well, too much for me anyway.

"Want to talk about it?"

Derek seems more upset than me. I've been through a mild panic attack thinking I'd jeopardized everyone, then gone through another shock finding out that Lauren and Kit went behind our backs and decided to trust strangers, supernatural strangers, with our lives. Well, we're just meeting them, but our lives _could_ be in danger.

I swallow and try to get past that.

I can't. Not yet.

Derek grunts. I'm not sure if that's a yes or no. He's concentrating fiercely and I realize he's going to be down here awhile. He's doesn't want to talk with me about this.

I feel pain in my chest knowing Derek doesn't want to talk about this whole situation with me. It's big and he just wants to act like a caveman down here in the basement. I realize he's not thrilled. None of us are.

I swallow hard and sit down in my usual seat.

"Um…I-I d-don't…" I can't even _speak._ Suddenly, my hurt and left over adrenaline from panic and all the overwhelming feelings in me burst. Now I'm enraged and I want to _punch something_.

I jump up and sprint toward the punching bag Derek just strung up, my vision tunneling as energy and adrenaline course through me, pumping my heart in to a frenzy. I fly at it, pummeling the poor bag. I punch and kick and grunt and scream. I'm yelling at it and the rough material of the bag is tearing the skin on my knuckles.

I think I understand why Derek comes down here after Lauren gives him shit he doesn't deserve. We don't deserve this. Any of this. We are just kids, and we deserve normal lives.

Simon and Tori don't deserve to have the fucked up drama they live through each day they wake up and remember they have a half-sibling they never knew about before. Tori doesn't deserve her messed up family and powers. Derek doesn't deserve the crap he gets and other people's judgments or his messed up family, either. None of us deserved to be put into that experiment.

My fists are flying and blood is smearing the bag from my spilt knuckles.

I keep screaming and before I know it, I'm pitching forward.

Except, forward isn't forward anymore. I'm in Derek's arms and he's holding me tightly, his arms around my waist and my back pressed to his chest. I continue to hit and scratch and yell. Tears are rolling down my face and my breathing is uneven from the sobs racking my body.

I crumple. He pulls me into him before I fall and he holds me closer. His legs give out and we're both on the floor. I curl my legs up and sob, doubled over between his knees, my forehead almost touching the concrete floor. Derek is a warm blanket draped over me, his chest covering my back and his arms stay wrapped around me. I clutch them like a lifeline.

It's a long while before I'm calm enough to hear him.

"Shh, Chloe. Shh. Chloe, Chloe, Chloe." Each time he says my name, he draws out the word, making it sound like a moan. The hurt in his voice gets to me.

What just came over me? I went completely out of control. I'm still out of control.

Derek is squeezing me tightly and he's bent over me, the warmth and tight hold on me the only things holding me together, otherwise I know I would have continued to come apart at the seams. Is this it? Am I going mad?

Derek is rocking slowly, side to side and breathing evenly, whispering my name in my ear. My head is pounding from crying so hard and the quiet noise and slow rocking is soothing. Slowly, I sit up on my knees and he follows. My breathing is still uneven and as I sit up, he pulls me back and sweeps my legs up. He sets me on his lap sideways and I curl into his chest, my legs coming up so I'm in a ball. He wraps arms around all of me, not once stopping the crooning of my name. After a while, I stop crying, though his previously clean shirt is damp from his sweat and my tears. I have the material clenched in both fists so I let go and smooth my hands over his chest, trying to flatten the wrinkles I caused.

I have a grip now. I lay my head against his chest, so close I can hear his steady and loud heart beat. He has such a big heart. I know he does. Other people just can't see it as clearly as me. They don't know him like I do.

Now he's tracing small circles on my back and it feels so good I think I fall asleep for a minute.

When I come back to reality, Derek has moved to the chair I usually sit in, still in the basement. I'm not in such a tight ball anymore, but he's got me wrapped securely in his arms.

Kit is standing in front of us, but I can't work up the energy to feel embarrassed even though my face feels swollen and my body is trembling every few seconds. It feels like shivers, but I'm not cold and I can't stop it.

When Derek feels me stirring, he stops whatever he was saying to his dad and looks down at me. He must see something in my eyes because his already tight grip on me tightens. "Don't worry. It's just the adrenaline. You'll stop shaking in a minute."

I can't nod because if I do, my head might just roll right off, but I look back over at kit, using only my eyes. Kit takes a step forward. I feel Derek's chest vibrating but the growl isn't loud enough for either Kit or I to hear.

Kit stops as if sensing that he's already too close. "I'm sorry, Chloe. I probably shouldn't have told you and the rest like that. But this could be life changing. I can call Jaime and Jeremy right now and cancel. You don't ever have to meet them."

I feel Derek's body all around mine. He's tense. I have enough sense to realize that Kit thinks my going crazy is because of him and Lauren deciding to have us meet a necromancer and werewolves.

I think about that. Was that the reason I totally lost my shit? Or was it the necro-crazies taking over?

After a few second's debate I decide that it was just a really tense and stressful day to blame.

I look at Kit. I can't speak at first and it takes a few tries before my hoarse voice comes out. "No. I'll meet them. We'll all meet them. Where's Aunt Lauren and what did you yell at her?"

I don't know why I even care about Aunt Lauren now, but everything is settling back into my mind. Every out of control emotion has stopped zinging through me and all that's left is adrenaline. I don't feel so numb anymore either, if that's the right way to describe what happened before I feel asleep in Derek's arms. Maybe it was more like I shut down in self preservation.

Warmth is soaking back into my bones from Derek. I can feel his arms, legs, torso, even his chin resting on the top of my head. He's thrumming, bursting with life. His heart beats a dteady rhythm and his lungs _whoosh_ with air. He's exactly what a necromancer like me needs. Life among all the death I see and feel and hear every day.

With this new re-ordering of my brain, I feel my body stop shuddering and strength returning. But that doesn't mean I leave Derek's lap, even in front of his father. I need him. Instead, I just take a deep breath, cuddle closer and wait for Kit's answer.


	10. Chapter 10

**(Chloe's POV)**

After another twenty minutes in the basement, alone, Derek and I head back upstairs. Kit refused to give me any details about his argument with Lauren, except for, "She has a few things to rethink, Chloe. Let her be." Which is frustrating.

I am more than just frustrated, but I have all of my emotions under control now. And fortunately, my weird freak out helped and I've stopped shaking, just as Derek predicted, and though I am tired I feel a certain clarity: rather than that scary swirl of overwhelming emotion that sent me over the edge earlier, I can see and understand everything I'm feeling. In short, I've calmed down and I'm able to think rationally again.

Derek, unfortunately, is having a much harder time thinking rationally. For the last twenty minutes, after Kit left, I spent trying to convince Derek that I was fine and he could _put me down, now, please._ He won't talk to me, still, but I get that he's not sure what to think or do. He's got the same problem I had earlier. And since he pulled me together, I owe it to him to do the same. Except, maybe I can help _before_ he spins out of control.

I hope I understand what's going on in his head. I'm predicting that the thoughts swirling through that smart, stubborn and hard head of his are:

_My Dad either didn't __**trust**__ me enough to discuss the probability of letting these Council members into our close-knit circle, or trusted __**them**__ enough that he didn't think he had to consult with me._

_But from the way Kit's been tense since we walked through the kitchen doors this morning, I'd say he doesn't have complete faith in them. He probably_ wants_ to trust in them. It can't be easy having mutant teenagers to take care of, especially one werewolf who is exhibiting behavior that may or may not be normal. Why not put trust in Council members claiming they can help?_

And on top of all these thoughts, I'm guessing this running through that wolf-part of his brain:

_Strangers are coming. That woman, Jaime Vegas, has seen us, knows who and what Chloe is. She could be a threat. Not to mention the _THREE WEREWOLVES _about to invade our home! I can escape easily through the forest, but not with my entire family and not when the werewolves would be just as, if not more, comfortable in a forest as me._

_How am I going to protect everyone if they turn out to be untrustworthy people my dad has decided to put his faith in? How am I supposed to handle this? Why can't this be as easy as Physics?_

I don't try to force Derek into talking; I just follow him as he grips my hand like a leash and pulls me upstairs.

Tori and Simon are sitting with Kit at the table in the dining room and I see that they've added a leaf to the table, increasing the length of it so it can seat ten people. Enough for our guests and us. I glance at the clock.

I turn to Kit and ask without irritation, "What time did you say they were coming?"

He clears his throat and answers, "At noon. They'll stay as long as you guys want them to."

Well, at least he's recognizing that this is up to us. This decision, at least, whether or not we want their help, is up to us.

I nod before Derek is walking again and pulling me into the kitchen after him. I catch a snippet of Simon and Tori's conversation.

"But I don't see how three werewolves and a necromancer will be any good to _us," _Tori is saying.

"I don't either, unless they know people. And if they're on the Council they must know some…"

And then Derek has his arm around my waist and I can't hear anything other than his even breathing. I look up at him, but he's glaring at what's left of the cold waffles.

"Not hungry?" I ask.

Surprised, Derek looks down at me. Then he shrugs and his jaw clenches.

I sigh. "Derek," I start, mentally smacking myself because I know I'm going to push him. "Please, talk to me. I'm fine, now, and besides being a little miffed at our parental figures, I'm starting to come to peace with this situation. I know we'll all be on our guard, but I'm sure they will be, too," referring to the werewolves and Jaime Vegas. I realize I don't remember if Kit said the werewolves' names or not. "We need to focus on how we're going to handle this, not dwell on what Kit and Lauren did."

Derek sighs, the sound coming out exasperated. "Chloe, that's not…I'm just…I just really don't…uurrgh, I don't want them to…" He can't seem to finish any of his sentences, so I make a stab at it.

"I told myself I wasn't going to push you into talking about it, but I did anyway. But let me guess what you're thinking." A flicker of amusement crosses his face. He looks at me with a raised eyebrow, obviously doubting my mindreading skills. I take a step back and look him over, trying not to let my thoughts stray at the good-looking sight his body makes, and the heat that flushes through me when his eyes say he knows my thoughts aren't all innocent.

I blurt, "You're nervous because you don't trust them." I state it like a fact, but Derek nods in confirmation that my guess was right, his expression not changing and seemingly unimpressed with such an obvious observation. "You don't want me or any of us to get hurt." And then under my breath. "_Well, except Lauren, who could use a swift kick in the rear." _ Derek crooks his eyebrow at me again, and I think I saw his mouth twitch. Ahh. Amusement is good and he seems to be getting a kick out of this, despite his trying to hide it from me.

I see his mouth twitch again, so to cover it up Derek rests a hand under his chin and trails one of his fingers across his slowly curving bottom lip. Derek signals for me to go on with his other hand, so I start a slow walk around him, still eye my hunky boyfriend. From all angles.

Derek chuckles, but doesn't try to keep me in his sight, letting me walk around him and take my time. When I'm at his back, I stop. "You're angry with your Dad and my aunt for not trusting us or at least not telling us what was going on. You aren't sure how you're going to keep us all safe if it turns out these people are really out to get us, not help us. Not to mention the fact that you can't even dare to hope for the best, because, let's face it, we always seem to get screwed over. And, deep down, maybe you're just a little bit peeved that three werewolves are going to be invading your territory?" I get that last bit out in a rush.

I've made it all the way back around to face him and I can see that he's not smiling anymore. I go to him and place my hands on the sides of his abs and lean my head against his chest. His body is all tense again and it takes a moment before he places shaking hands on my back.

He takes a shuddering breath.

When he speaks, I hear the rumble under my ear from his chest and it sounds nice with his heartbeat. "Don't forget, Chloe, that even though I've been Changing more often, it still takes a long time. And every situation we've been in so far, concerning a werewolf, both of us have only just scraped by. This situation is going to be hell."

I realize that I hadn't considered the that he might want to be in wolf form to meet these people. Obviously, it would give him an advantage against an enemy, but not necessarily three werewolves who actually know all the ins and outs of _being_ a werewolf. He can't, and I mean _cannot_, start out in wolf form. Talk about asking for trouble from the get go.

We stand there for a bit, just holding each other before Derek clears his throat and seems to pull back into himself.

He gives a deep sigh and I hear in it that he's gotten to the same point I have. He's gone about it in a much less dramatic way, I have to admit, but we're on the same page again. We're resigned. Resigned to the fact that, though we had no choice in the matter, three werewolves and a famous necromancer are coming to our house in a few hours under the pretense of helping us. Whether they are lying or not, we'll just have to see.

I guess we'll be winging it.

And it's not like we haven't been in worse situations.

At ten minutes to noon, I just finish putting the last sandwich on a plate over-flowing with all kinds of other sandwiches when Derek lifts his head from the book he's reading. He's sitting on the other side of the counter, keeping me company and asking me questions me on physics. I get most of them wrong, not on purpose, but it sets him off into a lecture which I promptly forget as soon as he moves on to the next question. It's a good distraction for him, even if it's meant to be tutoring for me.

I look at his tense posture. "What?"

He slides off his chair and as he stands, says, "They're pulling down the lane. They'll be here in a minute."

My heart starts pounding out an anxious rhythm. I haven't dared to hope up to this point, but as we go into the dining room, and I set down the plate of sandwiches next to the pitchers of water, I feel the first niggling rays of hope. Maybe they won't be here to kill us.

Derek yells for everyone to come downstairs. Kit is up in Lauren's room, and I guess he's explaining that the three men who were Jaime's bodyguards were werewolves. I can only imagine how well that's going, but I don't here lamps breaking or yelling so it must be going better than I thought. But when Kit comes downstairs alone, I realize that I was hoping Lauren would come down too. I guess, when it comes to conversing politely with more than one werewolf, who's not dating her niece, it's too hard for her to get over her prejudices, even today.

She might be annoying and frustrating when it comes to Derek, and bordering on unacceptable when it comes to treating werewolves right, but she's my aunt. I need a little support right now, but I can deal without her. I've other people and myself to get me through this.

_I don't remember much of my mom and I never see my dad. She's what I have right now and it feels like she's abandoning me_, I can't help thinking.

I shake off the feeling and take a deep breath, preparing myself for the new arrivals. Tori and Simon come in from the backyard where they were sparring, yelling about seeing a car driving up. I can't resist a peek out the front window and see a black SUV stopping in our circular driveway.

Derek comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me, kisses the top of my head. I move back from the window, letting the drapes fall back in place. "Ready?" I ask him.

He grunts and pulls me into the kitchen. Kit answers the door and I hear him explaining Lauren's absence to our new guests as they all make their way through the living room and into the dining room. I lean forward trying to hear anything that he might tell them that he hadn't told me.

"…has a lot to think about. It's new to her and she's not adjusting to being wrong very well. She said she'll come down before you leave, but…" he trails off as he steps into the room.

Tension fills the air. All four of us are standing as a unit on the opposite side of the table. Derek is closest to the doorway and on my left. Simon and then Tori are on my right, both tense and I know, preparing for a battle if it comes to that.

It's probably been noticed that we're all standing in front of the only window in the room. And obvious escape route.

As curious eyes roam over us, I picture what they must see. A group of vastly different teens, all looking at them like they're the nest hurtle they have to jump. Derek, probably scowling (I take a quick peek, and, yep, he's scowling) draws most of the attention with his big size, looking even bigger standing next to me. And then me, a tiny scrap of a girl hardly worth looking at, wearing one of Derek's baggy shirts and jeans with a messy wet ponytail. Simon, looking very anime with his blond Asian looks. And Tori must look like a whirlwind bottled up and put into girl form.

I take them in, first the sight a darkly handsome man, older but not in the way that's too noticeable. It's his eyes as they scrape over us, taking in our positions in an instant and coming to some conclusion in his mind. This bothers me that he's already judged us after a glance, but I try not to show any emotion. He isn't very big as far as the werewolves Derek and I have encountered. In fact he's the smallest I've ever seen. That's not saying he looks harmless. No, on the contrary he looks leanly muscled and very, very smart and capable. No doubt, this man is an experienced fighter and ready for any situation.

Jaime Vegas, famous spiritualist and glamour girl, is right behind him. And I have to say, looking less glamorous than she did on stage in jeans and a t-shirt and with wildly untamed red hair. She looks just as pretty, even more so because now she looks approachable, but definitely less sparkly. She looks nervous and tense, biting her lip as she looks as us. She looks even a little surprised by our obvious defensive positions.

The third one is plainly another werewolf. He's big and muscled and looks like an Australian surfer. Or maybe outback guide. But he looks like he'd be about our age maybe a few years older. Definitely not old enough to be somebody's bodyguard. He gives us all a look and smirks when he eyes drift to my right. I glance over and see Tori is glaring at all of them. Ugh. We should not begin this meeting by being so openly aggressive. Cautious? Yes. Ready to rip their throats out like Tori? No.

I glance up at Derek and am proud to see that he's keeping his cool despite the strain I know this is for him. His face is an emotionless mask again, instead of the scowl from earlier. I look back as the last guy walks in and I try to mimic Derek.

The last guy looks just as darkly handsome as the first, though he's younger. His face has a good dusting of stubble and his eyes are full of amusement as he takes us in. He even chuckles a little, making Derek clench his fists and my blood boil. This new guy seems just as fit as the other two. He seems more relaxed, but also more observant than his Australian partner. I glance between the three werewolves and wonder why Jaime Vegas would need all three as back up when it looks like the job could be done with just one of them.

Kit, who walked fully into the room and is standing at the head of the table, gestures to us.

"I guess I'll do the introductions." First he holds his hand up to Tori. "This is my daughter, Victoria Enright." Tori stiffens when he says the word 'daughter' and wrinkles her nose. She won't look directly at any of the guests, though all of them give her a polite nod.

Kit moves on to Simon and me and we both give a half wave, and I add a small "hi" after Kit says my name. "My son, Simon Bae and Chloe Saunders, Lauren's niece."

And then he finally moves on to Derek. I see all of the guests slightly stiffen, except for the smaller werewolf. "And my other son, Derek Souza."

Kit takes a deep breath and then goes on with the rest of the introductions and I pay close attention. "Guys," he says to us. "This is…"

He motions to the small, dark, and clever looking werewolf. "Jeremy Danvers."

Jeremy smiles warmly at us. Kit quickly introduces Jaime, then the blond werewolf as Reese Williams and the dark werewolf as Nick Sorrentino.

The tension hasn't lessened much, but when Kit suggests we all take a seat, we do, though I have to tug on Derek's hand to get him moving. I have a feeling he'd be much more comfortable standing.

Kit is the first to speak, unsurprisingly. "Okay." He turns to Jeremy and it becomes clear that, though he's Jaime's bodyguard, he's the leader of the four. "Can you let the kids ask you a few questions first?"

Jeremy looks at us and nods gravely. He opens his mouth to speak. "I understand you're all probably very opposed to trusting us." Tori snorts, I know she knows that he can hear her when she mutters, _damn straight, and that's an understatement._

Jeremy directs his next statement at her. "So, please feel free to ask us anything. We want to help you and gaining your trust is important."

When none of us speaks right away, I see Kit starting to get annoyed with us and nick starting to get impatient.

I hear Simon sigh. I can't speak, because I know if I do it'll be a stuttering mess. Otherwise I would've started us off. So I realize that Simon the only one who'd be left to ask anything, with Tori and Derek both resolutely and stubbornly silent on either side of me and Simon.

Simon speaks clearly, though guardedly. "Why do you think you can help us? And what about Tori and me? Or is it just Derek and Chloe you can help?"

Jaime shakes her head while Jeremy answers. "Yes, we can help you, all of you. We can give you training as well as protection. We have a number of loyal and trustworthy people on the Council and they'd love to help all of you."

Tori pipes up, "Help us how? Train us up and gain our trust so you can use us?" She spits out the words, her tone acidic. Jaime looks appalled but Jeremy watches Tori bluster impassively. "What, you heard about the mutant freaks and decided they'd be a good weapon? No one just helps to help? What other motive do you have? God knows there's always an ulterior motive."

I see Reese looking at Tori with a wrinkled nose as if he smells something bad. Nick looks a little pissed. Jeremy stays impassive.

Kit sighs. "Tori—"

She glares at him. "Save it!" Then she gets up. "I don't need this." And she starts to march out of the room.

I call her back. "Tori!" I realize I'm boiling mad at her. "Don't you dare leave!" I know everyone is watching this exchange, but my focus is on her hands, shaking. "This is important, so stop with the bullshit and try having a goddamn open mind for once. Jesus, you aren't Lauren."

I see Kit stiffen out of the corner of my eye. Tori turns around and glares at me as she marches back to her chair and sits down sullenly.

I take a deep breath and realize: we aren't going to get anywhere if we don't trust these guys. And though it's hard, unbelievably so, I let a few walls fall and hope that I won't get plowed over.

I look at Jeremy, who stares back evenly. I straighten and fold my hands on the table in front of me, going into business mode.

"Y-you'll help us?"

I hear somebody sigh impatient, but don't take my eyes from Jeremy. Something good flashes in them and I hope to God I'm not making a mistake. He nods simply.

I take another deep breath and look down at my hands. I think for a bit.

I look back up at Jaime Vegas. "I'm still…I-I don't completely b-believe you. I know how I can prove being a necromancer. How can you?"

She smiles a little bit. "What would you like me to do? I can see that this is going to be necessary so I'll prove it to you all. I _am_ a real necromancer."

I nod and stand up. "Let's summon a ghost then." Jaime nods.

"Where should we do this?" I ask, looking at Derek.

He's still holding it together, but I know he still isn't going to trust these people anytime soon.

Derek stands up too and nods at the window. "Outside."

Everybody gets up to move outside, but Derek grabs my hand. "You shouldn't go out there, though. How are we supposed to tell if she actually summoned a ghost or if you did by accident?"

Jaime's eyebrows shoot up and Jeremy looks surprised for a second, before peering at me curiously. I sigh. This is gonna need explaining.

I turn from Derek face the guests. "The experiment did something to me, and I'm sure Kit already told you what I can do?" I can't keep the bitterness out of my voice. Jaime nods.

"He told us very little and most of it was hard to believe." She pauses and in the pause, Nick speaks up. He has a very pleasant voice.

"Yeah, it's kinda hard to believe a fifteen year old can raise a zombie. In her sleep." He smirks.

Damn. I glare at Kit. He told them that?

Derek growls at Nick and takes a step toward him. Nick stops smirking and scowls, tensing up and holding his ground. He's not afraid of Derek.

"Believe it." Derek says this simply, but forcefully. Jeremy holds up a hand and makes eye contact with Derek.

"Calm down. I'm sure Nick didn't mean to offend." In a few words Jeremy calms the situation down and with a few more, Derek's hackles are down and he's not growling anymore.

I can't wait for this to be over.

I look at Nick and pretend that the last few moments didn't happen. "Yes, I did. And I can now if I'm not careful. I can do a lot more than a normal necromancer, I think. At least, I freaked out Margaret pretty bad."

Jaime looks at me. "So to prove I'm a Necromancer I have to summon a ghost away from you? Then how will they know there's a ghost there?"

I frown. I look at Derek and he rolls his eyes and sighs. "She just can't be there for the summoning. Chloe can tell if a ghost is suddenly appearing, so if you summon one, call her out and she confirms it, it'll be fine. But if you call her out, pretending you have a ghost, but really the ghost is only appearing because she's there, then she'll know it and you'll be proven a fraud." He says this very briskly and without malice, but Jeremy's jaw tics.

Jaime takes a deep breath and shakes her head. Everyone heads outside except Derek and I. I watch from the window as they take a path into the forest, getting further and further from us until I can't see. Suddenly, I see a problem.

"How will I know when she's got one?" I say, feeling sort of like I'm talking about fishing and not summoning a ghost.

Derek raises an eyebrow at me and tilts his head. _Ahh…_ I had forgotten about his bionic hearing.

We wait. And wait. And after a half-hour, Derek nods.

I take his hand and follow him through the forest as he sniffs out their whereabouts.

When we show up, Kit gives me an indecipherable look, but otherwise doesn't react. In the clearing, Nick, Reese, and Jeremy are in a loose circle behind Jaime and Tori, Simon and Kit are on the opposite side of the clearing wearing looks that are familiar.

I see that look often, when I am talking to a ghost. They aren't entirely comfortable with that. The werewolves look better. They must be used to Jaime, assuming that she really is one—a necromancer.

Jaime is kneeling on the ground, in front of Jeremy. She's facing me so I can see the intense look of concentration on her face.

And in the middle of the clearing is a small child I've never met. My heart sinks and I think I know what is coming. The child looks about six or seven, small for his size, wearing a dirty t-shirt over torn pants. Messy, unruly red hair sticks out from under an old fashioned cap. He's chewing on a piece of straw. I blink and he flickers once before coming back. This time, his face has collapsed on itself in a strange shape and it alters his head structure drastically, making the eyes mushy and popping. Clearly, he died of a head injury.

At the same time, practically in sync, Jaime and I inhale sharply. I see that she's opened her eyes in time to see the boy's death state. And though Jaime leans back in her kneeling position, barely moving at all really, I step backwards into Derek at the sight of the poor child.

"Oh." My voice is barely a whisper.

Simon is looking back and forth between me and the spot I'm staring at, worriedly.

"What is it? What do you see?" I expected Simon to ask, but it's Tori's anxious voice that asks me. Derek doesn't say anything, just lets me lean into him.

Jaime answers Tori. "A small boy, five or six." At this the little boy, who's been looking at Jaime, turns to me, whole again and with a normal head. He scowls and shakes his. I smile, warmly and ask, "Oh, that's not right, is it? I'd say you're…" I quick swallow, using my pause to gather myself and try to relax my tense body. I need to remember whom I am talking to. A little boy, undeserving of being disturbed by necromancers.

I tap my chin in a contemplating manner, giving none of my distress away. Then I smile and hold a finger in the air, taking a step away from Derek. "I bet you're ten!" He can't be older than eight at the most.

He smiles and shakes his head. "Nahhhh…" He looks at ground and scuffs the dirt with his foot, very shy, but pleased with my overestimation of his age.

Jaime laughs and gets to her feet, looking very graceful and like she's done this a thousand times. "Hmm…How about you tell us how old you are?" Her megawatt smile is endearing as heck.

With a smile and a proud puff of the chest, he says, "Seven and a half."

I smile and shakily take a breath. I reach backwards and Derek takes my hand. I squeeze it, but I don't need his support so much anymore and let it drop. I relay his answer to Simon, playing along and saying it just as proudly. "He's seven and a half!" Simon smiles at me before smiling in the approximate direction of the boy.

The boy walks over to me and I crouch down, ignoring all the stares on me. I don't want to upset this little boy. He smiles at me. "What's your name?" he asks me, before glancing at what must be an intimidating Derek behind me, because his smile drops.

"I'm Chloe," I gesture behind me without turning to look, "and that's Derek." I put my hand up to my mouth like I'm telling him a secret and stage whisper, "Don't worry. He's not nearly as scary as he looks." I wink and the boy laughs.

Jaime crouches next to me so we're both in front of the boy. "And what's your name, buddy?" she asks brightly, and I wonder how she can be so cheery talking to a dead child.

Again, he puffs up his chest as he says his name. "I'm Charles Grant Rierson the third and I'm my momma's little angel."

I try to keep my lip from trembling and the tears from falling. Jaime just smiles and laughs. "I'm sure you're momma is very proud of her Charles Grant Rierson the third. You look like a good boy. Are you a good boy, Charles?"

He nods. "Oh, yes, ma'am. Why do think she calls me angel, huh?" Jaime laughs again before standing up. I watch Charles flicker again to his death state before returning again to the cute little boy. Jaime walks over to a pile of what I realize must be her supplies. She looks at Charles. "I'm really sorry, Charles, but you have to go now."

I'm trying even harder not to cry and I feel behind me, shifting closer to me, sensing my distress. Charles looks panicked. "What?" he says, "No! I just got here. I want to stay for a little bit! Please!"

Jaime just shakes her head. "Maybe we'll see each other again, Charles. It was nice meeting you." And before he can say anything else, or I can say anything more, Charles Grant Rierson the third, a boy of seven and a half years of age who died from a gruesome injury to the head, disappears.

I let loose and a sob escapes my throat and my eyes shut tight as a few tears flow from them. Derek steps up and a steady arm wraps around my shoulders, keeping me upright. Jaime has her head bowed and her breathing is unsteady. Jeremy walks over to her and places a hand on her shoulder. She grabs it and clutches it a moment before picking up her supplies.

Simon and Tori and Kit all come over to me. They don't know what they can do and so just stand there. After a few moments, I pull myself together. The truth is…there is nothing anyone can do, because that little boy is dead.

Well, I can do something. I can talk to his ghost and maybe raise his zombie if it's near. Lucky me.

I straighten my shoulders and stiffen my spine. No more crying today. I'm cried out and I haven't even had lunch yet.

Simon grabs my hand when I take a few steps away from Derek. I need to show these people I can stand on my own. But that doesn't mean I don't take Derek's offered hand in my other, or shrug off Tori's hand on my shoulder. I look up at Jaime who is standing across from me, her arms crossed and her head bent. Out of respect to Chlares?

"Well, I guess that was proof enough," I say, wishing I was as confident as my un-stuttering voice sounds.

And just like that, I realize that I'm going to trust these people. And, by God, they are going to help us.


End file.
